


Who We Are and Want to Be

by Pinkablu



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hopefully Slow Burn, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Pre-Recall, Reader has a last name, Readers will probably get to influence who Reader gets with, TW: drug use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-08-12 10:29:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 41,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7931224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkablu/pseuds/Pinkablu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since you were but a teen you've been on the run as a con artist, skipping town after town until you're caught in Spokane acting as a recruiter for Overwatch. Faced with a decision between life in prison or employment in Blackwatch, you find yourself following your father's footsteps, as an undercover agent. </p><p>What seems simple at first is complicated by secrets that will change who you are forever.</p><p>(DEAD Until further notice)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Caught

“And that's everything, sir,” you leaned back in your chair with the brightest of smiles, batting your eyelashes a few times for added effect. The man in front of you was somewhere in his prime with sleek black hair and matching eyes. He let out a nervous laugh, then gave a hopeful smile as he glanced to the paperwork on the desk between the two of you, an envelope of cash on top.

 

“Really?” he asked incredulously, fidgeting in his chair. “They...they'll really accept even a guy like me?”

 

“To be quite frank with you, we've accepted far worse,” you winked before leaning over the desk to grab the paperwork and payment, straightening it all out with a few taps on the wood. “Processing should take about a month--I’ll call you if we require anything else from you, though you should be good to go. You still have my card?”

 

“Yeah, sure do,” your client stood then, a wide grin spreading across his face. “...thank you for this Miss Coburn. This really means a lot to me.”

 

“It’s no problem Leo. Overwatch will be glad to have you,” you flashed another smile before waving Leo out, sighing as the door swung shut with a bell ring. Taking the papers in hand you tossed the majority of them out, save for the envelope of cash on top, and proceeded to stow your earnings in a small safe in the backroom for safekeeping. 

 

“ _ Sucker _ ,” you muttered under your breath as your safe swung shut, a red light on its handle indicating it was sealed. “As if Overwatch would hire a convicted criminal. Ha,” you stretched your arms above your head until your back popped a few times, looking around the room with a thoughtful expression.

 

Your little operation hadn’t been going on for very long, yet you’d already made a decent haul. It turned out the less well-off parts of Spokane were full of desperate people looking for a quick way to the good life---and it was those sorts of people that made the easiest targets. So you set up shop as an Overwatch recruiter, demanded a hundred dollars for ‘processing fees’ and planned your getaway at the end of the month when your ‘clients’ expected their phone calls.

 

It was too easy, honestly. You might repeat this gig for a while in different cities at this rate--you already had a couple thousand dollars stowed away from the past week, which would keep you on your feet for a while.

 

The tell-tale ringing of the door’s bell ringing brought you out of your thoughts. You straightened your shirt and took a deep breath and re-entered your office with the brightest smile you could muster.

 

“Hello, how can I--” you stopped mid-sentence as you took in your guests’ appearance--two men in a black suits with black sunglasses. Your stomach dropped.

 

Black suits were  _ never _ a good sign.

 

“How can I help you?” you finished as smoothly as possible, recomposing yourself. You kept your smile in place, walking up to your desk with an air of confidence.

 

“We’re with Overwatch, ma’am. Public relations department. We’re here for your credentials,” one man tipped his sunglasses down, giving you a hard stare. “We weren’t aware we had assigned a recruiter to this section.”

 

“Ah, of course, of course,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. “I can get that right away for you sir. It’s just in the backroom--please, have a seat while I get them,” neither of the two men took a seat when offered, which made a lump form in your throat. 

 

_ They knew _ .

 

“We’ll be waiting,” the other said, arms crossed. You gave them a nod before disappearing in the backroom, panic swelling in your chest. 

 

“It’s ok, we’ve gotten out of worse,” you murmured under your breath as you punched in the code to your safe, taking out your stash with shaky hands. “Just gotta...make it quick.”

 

You grabbed your purse from a hook on the wall, shoving your stash into it before reaching for your keys. You went for the back door, pausing for a moment to yell back to the men.

 

“Ah! I found it! I’ll be just a moment!” you shouted before yanking the back door open, ready to sprint out before the men caught on.

 

But instead of sprinting towards your getaway vehicle you sprinted right into another man’s chest, making you stumble back from the impact. He, however, didn’t budge an inch and took up most of the doorway. 

 

His face was shadowed from a cowboy hat on top of his head, which he tilted enough so you could see his eyes. A cigar was lit in his mouth, and the ashes dropped to the cement when he gave you a crooked grin and wink.

 

“So,  _ what _ did you find exactly, darlin’?” he asked in a heavy western accent. He leaned against the doorframe, and his cocky expression was all you needed to see to know it was over.

 

“Shit.”

 

“Yeah, I reckon that about sums it up.”

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

The room they put you in was small. Small enough to feel cramped and claustrophobic, which you assumed had a psychological effect on people like you, since it was an interrogation room and all that.

 

You had your feet up on the table, precariously balanced on your chair’s back legs as you rocked back and forth. You occasionally glanced up to the one-way window in front of you, your image reflected on the black glass. But for the most part you focused on cleaning the dirt from under your nails--a nervous habit you picked up when you were young that helped you look aloof.

 

Though in reality you were slowly losing your shit.

 

You nearly jumped out of your chair when the door finally opened with a bang, looking over to see a disgruntled man in black there. He had a van dyke looking beard with the rest of his hair covered by a black knit cap. Two scars laid beneath his right eye, a third across his lip. 

 

Overall he looked pretty terrifying, with how his heavy footsteps rang through the small room and the piercing gaze he directed at you. You didn’t think you deserved that look, honestly--you hadn’t killed anyone, after all. 

 

And yet his expression never lightened up, and under his stare you felt small and insignificant. 

 

“ Janice Coburn. Or, should I say, _____ Barrett,” his voice was deep and gruff, and made you wince when he said your name. He glanced down to your feet then, and you immediately took them off the table, almost falling backwards as you did. You almost muttered an apology, but you bit your tongue and tried not to give in.

 

“You’re a hard woman to find,” he continued, raising a hand to reveal a stack of papers. He threw them onto the table and, after a moment of hesitation, you reluctantly began to look through them.

 

“You’ve been  _ following _ me?” you asked incredulously, shifting through the text and pictures before you. Past cons and all the details were listed, and it seemed until recently they had been just one step behind you.

 

“We have,” the man confirmed, crossing his arms. You couldn’t help but notice he was in shape-- _ really _ in shape. He could probably snap you in half.

 

“ _ Why _ ? Who--who  _ are _ you?” you stammered out, completely caught off guard. You were losing your composure, giving him the upper hand. Not that he needed it-he already knew more about you than anyone else did.

 

“Commander Gabriel Reyes,” he replied flatly. “As for why--you have your father to thank for that.”

 

“My…” you trailed off, your gut twisting painfully. You hadn’t seen your father for  _ years _ , and you had no problem keeping it that way. He left when you were just a teenager, and while you had him to thank for your ‘skills’, you had little else to thank him for in your life.

 

“My father and I have nothing to do with each other,” you said bitterly, crossing your arms in a similar manner as Gabriel. “So if you’re trying to find him through me, you’re shit out of luck.”

 

“He’s dead.”

 

That hit you harder than you thought. You visibly winced, arms slowly falling back to your lap. It was as if he had taken a baseball bat and slammed it into your gut. Your mouth went dry and it was hard to swallow, but once you did you spoke again.

 

“Did you kill him?”

 

“No,” Gabriel motioned to the papers in front of you. “He was killed in the line of duty.”

 

“In the line of…” you glanced back down to the papers, shifting through them until you started seeing  your father’s face among the pictures. Skimming through the information as quickly as you could with shaky hands, you looked back to Gabriel in disbelief. “...he  _ worked for you _ ?”

 

“That’s right,” he said, finally uncrossing his arms to grasp the back of the chair in front of him. He leaned forward, looking you up and down before continuing. “We caught him during one of his heists. Offered him a job or life in prison. He took the job,” he leaned in just a bit more. “We’re offering you the same options.”

 

“Wait, s-slow down,” you said, standing up abruptly. Gabriel let go of his chair to lean back, crossing his arms again. “Y-you aren’t telling me shit here. So, what, my dad got caught and was hired by you guys and when he kicked the bucket you figured his daughter would be the next best thing? I don’t even  _ do _ heists--I just  _ lie _ ,” you shot him a glare, though you were starting to feel more and more trapped. 

 

“And you lie well. You’d be joining my division, and with a little training you’d act as one of our undercover agents, just like your father,” he replied, impatience brewing in his eyes. “It’s either take a well-paying job or go to prison for life. Your father didn’t hesitate.”

 

“My father was a self-preserving piece of shit,” you retorted, looking back to the pictures. “He wouldn’t hesitate on  _ any _ decision that could save his own skin. But I’m not my father,” you sat back down with a huff, your rage nearly unbearable. 

 

There was silence after that. You sat defiantly in your chair while Gabriel pinned you with a hard stare--and you felt it slowly cracking your defenses as logic began to seep back into your mind. You started seeing less red and began seeing more gray--a lot more gray, and you didn’t know what to do with it.

 

“...so he’s really dead?” you finally said, looking back to Gabriel. “...my old man really kicked the bucket?” 

 

“Yes.”

 

“...he do any good before then?”

 

“He did.”

 

“Ha...hard to believe...Pops working for Overwatch…”

 

“Actually,” Gabriel snorted derisively. “He worked for me.”

 

You went silent again, looking down at your now-clean nails. Did you really want to go to prison? Or did you want to follow your father’s footsteps... _ again _ ? It was a matter of pride by this point, and when you closed your eyes you saw yourself dressed in orange behind bars for the next fifty or so years until you died there, one way or another.

 

You took a deep breath before letting out a long sigh, opening your eyes again to stare back at Gabriel Reyes. You gave him a small nod, defeated.

 

“Alright. I’ll join,” you glanced back to the photos of your father--the last photos before his death, no doubt. “...and for the record, I won’t die like that bastard did.”

 

That’s when Gabriel finally cracked a smile. Or, rather, a smirk of sorts. He walked over, placing his hands on the table to lean towards you.

 

“Welcome to Blackwatch, Barrett,” he said, holding out a hand.

 

You took it, looking back at him.

  
“Guess I’m glad to be here.”


	2. Bullseye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Jesse McCree,” Marcey repeated, and you swore the man heard her say his name because he was looking at you again with a twinkle in his eye. “He was top of his class when he was a recruit. Heard he had the same options as you, too--prison or service.”
> 
> “I flunked English but I feel like there’s some irony here,” you said with resentment. “He’s the guy that caught me.”
> 
> “Whoa, really? And you never even got his name?”
> 
> “I wasn’t in the mood to ask.”

“I'm gonna die,” you wheezed, slowing your miserable jog to a lame limp. It was at least eighty-seven degrees out, and you could feel your skin burning between the sun in the sky and black asphalt below.

 

“That's no way to talk, newbie! You're halfway there!” one of your bunk mates cheered you on, slowing down so they were practically jogging in place beside you. Their name was Mary or Macey or something like that. You didn't particularly care.

 

“Nope. This is the end. This is my fate,” you replied, finally stopping to put your hands on your knees. You coughed a few times, looking up at the track you were on with disdain. It was only week two of twenty in Blackwatch’s training regime. Blackwatch boot camp, more or less. 

 

“You really gonna flunk and head to prison, Barrett? Is that what you want?”

 

Marcey. That was her name. You sighed and looked up at her with a grimace. 

 

“What, does everyone know about that now?” you scoffed, straightening up. “Nothing better to talk about?”

 

“Hey now, you aren't the only criminal here, y’know. Plenty of people are here because they had to pick their poison.”

 

“Is that so?” you let out a dry, humorless laugh, wondering if the whole damn place was full of lowlifes like yourself. “You the same, then?”

 

Marcey laughed and shook her head. “Nah. I signed up by choice because Commander Reyes is the best damn leader Overwatch has, even if he doesn't get credit for it. It's a shame the public doesn't know the lengths he's gone for them,” Marcey’s eyes sparkled with admiration you, quite frankly, could not understand. 

 

To you, he was just a terrifying man that held the leash to your newfound collar.

 

“You rested up yet? Don't want one of the sergeants to come after us, now,” Marcey said with a grin. You groaned, cursing her boundless energy before stretching to pop your joints a few times.

 

“Yeah, ok, let's go,” you muttered. Marcey gave your back a firm pat, almost knocking you off your feet. But it got you moving, and Marcey gave a loud whoop as you started to jog.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Lunch was awful, but after day three you started eating it in earnest. It might have both looked and tasted like shit, but it had all the nutrients you needed for your rigorous training regime.

 

So you ate the slop like it was your last meal.

 

“Whoa, slow down or you're gonna barf,” Marcey said, watching you eat in slight disgust. “Nobody’s gonna steal it from you, damn.”

 

“Shut up, Marcey,” you snorted, spooning the last of your slop into your mouth. You patience was always low when you were hungry, which Marcey seemed to have duly noted with the way she looked back to her food. 

 

“Probably a bad time for you, but shootin’ is next,” she said with a small, wry smile. Had you still been eating you probably would have choked because shooting-- _ shooting _ was your  _ worst _ skill by far. Your targets were an embarrassment when they came back in, usually marked with either a few stray shots in the white or no shots at all.

 

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, running a hand through your hair. If you couldn’t figure out how to pull a trigger right, you were going to be saying hello to a few new bunk mates and a pair of orange jumpsuits. “Who’s in charge of it this time?”

 

“Looks like we’re getting a guest teacher,” Marcey said with a smile, leaning forward on the table. “A real Blackwatch member. Like, one that actually goes out on the field, y’know?”

 

“Great,” you rolled your eyes at your companion, pushing your tray away. “Someone who will  _ really _ report to Reyes that I’m a fuck-up.”

 

“Hey hey, maybe he can help you out, yeah? Bet he’s better than our usual sergeant, at least. Come on, cheer up,” Marcey reached across the table to pat your arm, which you promptly moved out of reach.

 

“Whatever. Let’s just get going and get this rodeo over with,” you stood, picking up your tray as you did. Marcey gave a good-natured laugh before following suit.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

“You’re joking,” you deadpanned, groaning as your eyes landed on your new instructor. He seemed to see you at the same time, tilting his hat with a wink before lighting a new cigar. When you looked back to Marcey, she had a look of admiration on her face yet again.

 

“That’s  _ McCree! _ ” she whispered, shaking you by your arm as you and the other recruits began to file in onto the firing range. 

 

“Who?”

 

“ _ Jesse McCree _ ,” Marcey repeated, and you swore the man  heard her say his name because he was looking at you again with a twinkle in his eye. “He was top of his class when he was a recruit. Heard he had the same options as you, too--prison or service.”

 

“I flunked English but I feel like there’s some irony here,” you said with resentment. “He’s the guy that _ caught  _ me.”

 

“Whoa, really? And you never even got his name?”

 

“I wasn’t in the mood to ask.”

 

Your conversation ended as the rest of the recruits appeared, Jesse sauntering to the front of the crowd with one hand on his belt. A robotic hand, at that.

 

You wondered how he lost it and the rest of his arm.

 

“Now, I don’t reckon ya’ll can shut up a minute and let us get to it?” he yelled over the crowd. It was only then you realized everyone had been gossiping amongst themselves, just like you and Marcey had. Jesse must have been a bigger deal than you realized for the usually obedient recruits to turn into gossipers. 

 

“Yessir!” the crowd replied, heels clicking instinctively together with a salute. You were slower at it, and your salute was mediocre at best, but luckily this wasn’t inspection.

 

“Now, I can see ya’ll are wonderin’ what I’m doin’ here. Seems most of ya’ know who I am, too,” you swore his gaze passed over you again, and you frowned. “The answer’s simple. This group has the  _ worst _ groupings out of the rest. Ya’ all got terrible aim.”

 

In one swift movement he grabbed the gun holstered to his hip, twirling it in his hand before grasping it firmly, barrel skyward. A few recruits fidgeted, excited by the trick. 

 

_ What an easy crowd, _ you thought to yourself.  _ Woulda’ been perfect suckers for a con… _

 

“Now, by the end of today I expect everyone to get at least  _ three _ bullseyes, got it?” he continued, shifting his cigar to the other side of his mouth. “Ain’t that hard, once ya’ got the basics down. I’ll be helpin’ out best I can, but even I can’t perform miracles. Ya’ gotta put the work in yerselves or yer flunkin’ out of boot camp.”

 

Now you  _ knew _ he was looking at you, and your stomach began to twist in knots at his words. Was this a warning? Was he the messenger?

 

“Now everyone grab a gun and git to it.”

 

Everyone split after that, grabbing their respective guns from the racks nearby. You lagged behind the rest, the feeling of dread weighing you down considerably. It took a few pats from Marcey to get you going, really, as you grabbed your rifle and headed for a lane. 

 

“Just relax, Barrett,” Marcey said with a smile, heading for her own lane a few down from yours. For once you wished she’d stay nearby as you got ready to fire in the prone position. 

 

You always started in prone. Then offhand, then kneeling. You were terrible at all three, which was made sadder by the fact prone was the easiest position to master.

 

“Fuckin’ grass,” you murmured, feeling it scratch your skin as you laid down. You moved your gunstrap over your shoulder, getting into position. You immediately heard a tsk from behind and felt a boot kick yours to the side. 

 

“The hell?” you almost shouted, turning on your side to see Jesse standing there, his hand still on his belt as he looked down at you. 

 

“Yer foot was in the wrong place,” he explained with a shrug, though you swore you still saw amusement in his eyes. It pissed you off. “Continue.”

 

You glared--you couldn’t help it, really--before repositioning yourself again. You heard another tsk.

 

“What  _ now _ ?” you asked as he came into your peripheral view. He crouched down, tapping your elbow with his robotic hand. 

 

“Too far out. Move it in,” he instructed. You paused, taking a moment to look down the other lanes. There were countless other recruits, yet here he was pestering you from the get-go.

 

And it was drawing attention. The other recruits were glancing up from their scopes, both with curiosity and, for some, jealousy as Jesse McCree personally directed you. You began to feel a bit of stage fright, with so many focusing their attention on you.

 

“Ignore’em,” you heard him say from beside you. You felt metal tap your elbow again, this time with a little more force. “ _ Move it _ .”

 

“Alright, alright,” you said, finally moving your elbow inward. He nodded, seemingly content with your prone position.

 

“Now go for it,” he said, nodding down lane. You took a deep breath as you peered through your scope, the target clear in view. Your finger hesitated over the trigger, trying to get the bullseye centered.

 

You went to take another breath before shooting, only for your finger to brush the trigger enough to set the gun off. The shot landed clear in the zero, and you immediately cursed under your breath.

 

“I didn’t mean to shoot that--” you defended yourself as Jesse got out a pair of binoculars from the back of his belt to look at your shot. He smirked before redirecting his gaze back to you. 

 

“Don’t put yer finger on the trigger until yer  _ ready _ ,” he said, shaking his head. “Put yer finger on the trigger guard first, then move it down to the trigger when you’re about t’make the shot.”

 

You made a small noise as he gave you instructions, begrudgingly moving your finger to the trigger guard before looking down your scope again. You took a deep breath, keeping your finger away from the trigger until you were just about ready to shoot.

 

You held your breath on the exhale and pulled the trigger.

 

“A five. Not bad,” you heard Jesse beside you. He took his cigar out of his mouth for a moment to tap some ashes into the grass. “Move yer sights an’ try again.”

 

“Yeah yeah…” you muttered. But you did what he said, and the two of you worked back and forth until your shots started to hit the eights and nines on the target.

 

“Almost….got it…” you felt both frustration and excitement bubbling within you. You were  _ so close _ to hitting the mark, yet you just  _ couldn’t get it _ . Jesse watched from beside you, having been silent for the last five or so shots. His silence made you pry your gaze away from your scope to quirk an eyebrow at him.

 

“...no offense, uh, sir,” you started. “But...shouldn’t you uh...be helping the other recruits too?”

 

“Mm, they’re all fine shots,” he replied with a shrug. “It’s just you that needs trainin’, honestly.”

 

“Wh...but you said--” you put your rifle down, leaning up on one arm to give him a confused and disbelieving stare. 

 

“Yeah, well, didn’t wanna single ya’ out,” he flashed a crooked grin, the same he gave you after running into his chest before, and you felt your free hand clench into a fist.

 

“Are you shitting me right now? You came and replaced our instructor to teach  _ me _ ?”

 

“Boss’ orders,” he finally stood back up, stretching his legs out with a small groan. “You were on yer way to failure, and honestly yer a bit of an investment right now. So ya’ can’t go failin’ somethin’ as simple as  _ shooting _ .”

 

You had to bite your tongue so you didn’t lash out at him full-force, though the temptation was hard to resist when he wore such a shit-eating grin. You moved back into your prone position, noting that the hand holding the rifle had white knuckles.

 

“Investment, huh?” you seethed, looking down your sights. “Well, I’ll give ya’ somethin’ to invest in.”

 

You fired a shot and and, after a moment’s pause, heard a whistle come from Jesse.

 

“That’s more like it, darlin’,” he said, looking back down to you. “Now do that a coupla’ times and we can move to the next position.”

  
You made an annoyed humming noise, knuckles still white as you stared at your first bullseye. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated in the same day bc I have no life tbh. Thank you for the comments/kudos though! I got all giddy when I saw them c:


	3. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Finally, she smiles,” Jesse said with a laugh, leaning forward. “You’ve been just glarin’ at me the last few weeks. Nice to see a change.”
> 
> “Yeah, well...it wasn’t aimed at you,” you muttered, though you felt your cheeks go red. And this time, there wasn’t any dirt to cover it up. “...don’t you need to get back to the others?”
> 
> “That I do, darlin’, that I do."

As it so happened, Jesse McCree wasn’t a one-day instructor. No, he stayed for the next  _ three _ weeks, personally instructing you on the range and, as of today, on the course. 

 

“ _ Get in there, Barrett! _ ” you heard him shout from the sidelines as you climbed beneath nets in the cold mud, panting through grit teeth.

 

“Why me?” you hissed as you picked up your pace, mud sloshing over your wrists and elbows. Marcey was beside you, laughing.

 

“Maybe he likes you,” she teased, making you slap mud at her face. She just laughed harder, picking up her pace with ease. “Hurry up, B!”

 

“Don’t call me that,” you shouted after her, only to hear Jesse’s voice over the commotion once more.

 

“ _ I said get goin’, little lady!” _

 

“Fine!” you shouted back, now in a rush to get out of the mud pit. You sloshed forward a few paces behind your bunk mate, cursing every time Jesse shouted words of ‘encouragement’ your way. You wanted to take that cigar from his mouth and shove it in his eye, but you figured that’d get your ass in prison real fast. So you bit your tongue and took it, with some minor sass here and there when you felt like pushing your luck.

 

And today, you were pushing your luck. 

 

“Fucking finally,” you swore as you reached the end of the mud and touched the edge of the grass. You stumbled up, nearly falling back into the mud with how slippery it made your boots. But you held your ground, somehow, and proceeded to the next obstacle with fire in your eyes. 

 

“THAT GOOD ENOUGH,  _ SIR _ ?” you shouted, only to see his crooked grin when you turned around. He tilted his hat towards you, making your face burn red in rage. Luckily, the color was hidden beneath layers of dirt.

 

“Come on, B!” You heard Marcey shout from atop the climbing wall. You looked up at her with a frown--the ropes were covered in mud and grass and swung from the weight of other recruits climbing up. “If I win, I get half your lunch!”

 

“It takes two to agree to a bet, jackass!” you shouted, grabbing onto the ropes firmly as you began to climb. Between Marcey and Jesse, you seemed to get no breaks and it was driving you--quite literally, at the moment--up a wall. You reached the top in decent time and started on the way down.

 

“Doin’ good, girlie! Keep it up!” Jesse shouted from the sidelines. You were about to yell back when you suddenly felt a boot on top of your fingers, making you yelp in pain. You withdrew your hand too fast, losing your balance on the ropes. By the time you realized what had happened you had already fallen halfway down.

 

After the next half, everything went black.

 

You woke up in the nurse’s cabin with a pounding headache and a stiff neck. Your vision was blurred as you opened your eyes, immediately regretting your decision when the light made your headache ten times worse. 

 

“...sh...shit….” you muttered hoarsely, bringing one hand to your head in an attempt to stop the pounding. It didn’t work, though holding your hand over your eyes helped a lot.

 

“...h...hello?” you called out, hoping someone was there. You needed to know what happened and how bad it was--you needed to know if you could keep going on.

 

_ No way in hell a concussion is gonna put me in prison _ , you thought resentfully, trying to move your body into the sitting position. As you struggled to sit up you began to hear footsteps and hushed voices heading for you, and then the sound of a curtain pulling back.

 

“Oh dear,” you heard a woman’s voice, thick with a German accent to your right. “You shouldn’t be moving yet.”

 

“Hn...you’re not the usual nurse,” you managed to reply with a groan, refusing to open your eyes to look at her. “What happened…? Where…?”

 

“You’re still at boot camp, if that’s what you’re asking,” the woman replied. “You’re lucky I was in the area to help with nurse training. Had this happened tomorrow, I would have been gone,” you heard a few clicks beside you, then the sound of a small motor starting up. “My name is Angela Ziegler. I’m a medic for Overwatch’s main division in the nanobiology sector.”

 

“Angela...wait...Mercy?” you opened your eyes then, lifting your hand to try getting a good look. Your vision was still blurry however, and your head pounded in protest as a bright yellow light enveloped your sight.

 

“ _ Fuck! _ ” you shouted, recovering your eyes. Angela made a noise of disapproval, followed by a few more clicks.

 

“Sensitivity to light and I presume a horrendous headache as well? Telltale signs of a bad concussion. But don’t worry, we’ll get you fixed up soon.”

 

“Don’t concussions, y’know, take a while?” you asked, unable to hide your sarcasm. You heard the curtain pull back again, and a familiar voice answered.

 

“Usually they do. But you got the best damn doctor on this side of the United States helpin’ you out.”

 

“Sir,” you replied flatly, inwardly groaning. You’d recognize Jesse’s voice anywhere, even if you went  _ deaf _ . 

 

“You took a hard fall, little lady,” he said. You heard the screeching of a chair’s legs against the wood floor as he dragged it towards your bed. The sound made you wince, and you heard a small “sorry” right after.

 

“So I went and hit my head in the middle of the obstacle course. Great,” you could feel embarrassment swelling in your chest as you brought your other hand to your face as well, moaning. “Let me guess--this is gonna set me back and I’m either repeating this hell or going to prison. Right? Is that why you’re here?”

 

“Nah, none of that’s gonna happen,” Jesse replied nonchalantly. “Like I said, ya’ got the best doctor in the States. She’ll have you fixed up in, what? A day? Two?”

 

“Three, actually,” Angela replied with a few more clicks. “Alright, the Caduceus Staff is configured to your biology. It should speed up the process quite a bit.”

 

“The what?”

 

“The glowin’ stick she hauls around to save people with,” Jesse replied. You heard Angela snort at the description. “It’s what’s gonna get you right an’ ready to go.”

 

“Great. So I can get back to it in a bit, then,” you said with a sigh. You were happy you weren’t going to prison, but going back to boot camp at the moment seemed just as bad. You heard Jesse laugh beside you and cold metal patting your arm.

 

“That you can. An’ just so you know, we got the guy that’s been buggin’ ya the last few weeks,” you raised an eyebrow at that.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“Yeah, yeah you do,” Jesse replied, surprisingly more stern this time. “Your bunk mate told us all about it--how he started bullyin’ ya because I was helpin’ ya out.”

 

You bit your lip, upset by this development. It was true--the last few weeks there had been a recruit harassing you, but you never considered reporting it. He’d trip you in the lunch hall and bully you into giving him your rations. It mostly started after Jesse began giving you attention, so you figured it was just petty jealousy. It wasn’t like he was the first to express discontent over your special treatment.

 

“So he’s the one that stepped on me,” you said, giving in. There was no point in holding it back if Marcey had already snitched. “Honestly, I shouldn’t have pulled back like I did. I could have held on with one hand.”

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Jesse replied smoothly. You heard the chair creak as he leaned back. “He got you a concussion that woulda’ set you back to the beginning or worse. It was pure chance Mercy was in the area t’save ya.”

 

“So what’d you do with him?” You asked, dreading the answer.

 

“Gave him the boot. He’s good and gone now, and the other recruits shouldn’t be much of a problem, either.”

 

You had a feeling most of the other recruits hated you right about now.

 

“Ahem, if I may,” Angela interjected, making you jump. You had forgotten she was there. “Would you please open your eyes and tell me how it feels?”

 

“Oh, uh, sure,” you said, slowly opening your eyes. The yellow light was still there, though the pain had lessened considerably. You blinked away the rest of the blurriness and looked to the two beside your bed in disbelief.

 

“It doesn’t hurt nearly as bad,” you said, making Jesse laugh. He crossed his arms and chewed on his cigar.

 

“Told ya’,” he said with a grin. And for once, you didn’t want to punch him in the face.

 

“We are making good progress. As I said, three days should suffice to get you up and about again. Today will be spent with the staff, then the other two days will be up to your body to heal, as I’ll be leaving in the morning,” Angela gave you a warm smile then. “You should be just fine.”

 

“Thanks, doc,” you said, offering your own smile in return. “Really appreciate it…”

 

“Finally, she smiles,” Jesse said with a laugh, leaning forward. “You’ve been just glarin’ at me the last few weeks. Nice to see a change.”

 

“Yeah, well...it wasn’t aimed at you,” you muttered, though you felt your cheeks go red. And this time, there wasn’t any dirt to cover it up. “...don’t you need to get back to the others?”

 

“That I do, darlin’, that I do,” Jesse stood up then, reaching for his cigar to give it a few puffs. Angela gave him a look of disapproval, but it went right over his head. “I’ll be checkin’ up on ya later. Until then, you should take it easy,” he winked as he turned, heavy boots thudding against the wood.

 

“He’s a good man, you know,” Angela spoke up after Jesse had disappeared, taking his spot in the wooden chair to you right. You made an uncommitted noise at that, not entirely willing to continue the conversation. Angela didn’t mind, however, as she went on.

 

“He was stuck in a similar situation. Prison or this,” she waved her hand around. “Blackwatch, that is. Obviously he chose the latter,” she looked at you with a smile, and this time you didn’t return one.

 

“You’re the second person to compare us,” you said derisively, crossing your arms over your chest. “But I also heard there’s a lot of people like us. So I don’t see what’s so special about it.”

 

“Well, you’re the only recruit he personally put here,” she explained with a small laugh, apparently bemused by your attitude. “That, and he worked with your father.”

 

That got your attention, making you turn to face her. You tried to hide your surprise, but the smile on her face said you failed. “...hadn’t heard about that. Like, what, in the same unit…?”

 

“From what I heard, yes,” Angela nodded before standing, brushing some dust from her front. “Though you’d have to ask him more about it. I’m not a member of Blackwatch, after all,” she began to turn around and you impulsively lifted your hand as though to stop her.

 

“W-wait, are you leaving?” you stammered out, desperate for more information. She gave you a knowing smile and a small nod.

 

“I’m still training the nurses,” she explained, one hand on the curtain. “I’ll be back to check up on you. Until then, don’t move around too much and don’t touch the staff. Try to stay in the beam,” and with that, she disappeared with the swoosh of a curtain.

 

You sat there in the silence for a few moment before groaning, leaning back into your pillow. 

  
It was only week five of twenty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically this was done yesterday but I got too lazy to proofread it until today. SO here yOU GO. 
> 
> PS: Reyes will be making an appearance soon so don't worry ok
> 
> PSS: WHY DOES MY FIRST NOTE KEEP APPEARING UNDER MY NEW NOTES god I'm a scrub someone help


	4. Ladies First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I never took you for an office sort of guy, really,” you commented, looking at the American flag draped across on wall, a series of bookshelves beneath it. Most of the books covered war history and tactics, you noted, with a few western novels sprinkled in between. 
> 
> “I’m not,” he deadpanned, walking behind his desk to sit down. “And I’ll remind you, the only reason I’m in an office right now is because of you,” he jabbed a finger in your direction, making you straighten up and purse your lips. You knew he was right--he was here because your scores in most areas were abysmal at best, and you had him to thank for their improvement. “Now sit down already and start askin’ yer questions.”

The one time you wanted to talk to Jesse, he was busy helping other recruits for once. You tried to sneak beside him on the range only to be told to go to your lane. You tried racing the obstacle course to get to him first, but he said he had to watch the rest. 

 

Your next attempt was you racing out of the lunch hall, tray left behind, to catch up to the departing Jesse. 

 

“H-hey, sir!” you shouted after him, making him stop. He turned back to you, ashes falling from his cigar to the dirt below which he promptly stomped. 

 

“Hey girlie,” he greeted with a nod, his hand going back to his belt like usual. “You’ve been chasin’ me all week. What’s so important?”

 

Your cheeks flushed at his comment, but you straightened up and looked him square in the eye as you took a deep breath. 

 

“You worked with my father,” you breathed, fists clenching. He cocked his head to the side a bit before heaving a sigh.

 

“Yeah, heard you sayin’ somethin’ about that,” he said offhandedly, averting his gaze. 

 

“So it’s true?” you pressed, heart racing. “You really worked with him? In the same unit?”

 

“Yep,” your heart fell as Jesse began to turn away, waving his good hand dismissively. “Go finish yer lunch, Barrett.”

 

You stood there as Jesse sauntered off, rage bubbling in your chest. He was intending to brush you off? Just like that?

 

“H-hey, wait a minute!” you followed after him, though his longer strides made it hard to keep up. But you did your best, trying to match his step. “Why aren’t you willing to talk about it? This is kinda’ important to me, you know…”

 

“Mm, is it? You seemed to have a chip on your shoulder in the interrogation room,” your steps faltered and you scowled.

 

“So you were there too, huh?”

 

“Of ‘course,” he replied, giving you a half-hearted smile. It wasn’t his usual crooked grin and wink, which  _ really _ caught your attention.

 

“I might hate the guy, but I also don’t know shit about him,  _ sir _ ,” you replied coldly. You knew you should talk back to a superior, but thus far he hadn’t reprimanded you for it. “He left when I was a teen and I haven’t seen his ass since. So some information would be real’ appreciated.”

 

Jesse stopped then, and you stopped beside him. He had a thoughtful expression, if not a little grim before he did what you never thought he’d do--he dropped his cigar and stomped it into the dirt.

 

“Alright girl, shoot,” he said, turning to face you. His arms were crossed over his chest now, and the two of you had a staredown for at least half a minute before you spoke.

 

“Here?” you asked, breaking your gaze to look around. You were drawing attention, as usual, and you weren’t sure if you wanted anyone else to hear this information. 

 

“Alright fine, we’ll go to my office,” Jesse’s arms dropped to his sides as he began to walk off again, his pace faster than before. “Hurry up. I ain’t got all day.”

 

You resisted the urge to cheer for your victory as you ran to catch up, a grin plastered on your face as you followed him to one of the buildings nearby. Ignoring the looks you were given, you followed Jesse right up to his office where he unlocked the door before holding it open for you.

 

“Ladies first,” he said, a small fraction of humor back in his eyes. You thanked him with a nod and headed inside, taking a look around the office as you stood by one of the chairs in front a massive desk.

 

“I never took you for an office sort of guy, really,” you commented, looking at the American flag draped across on wall, a series of bookshelves beneath it. Most of the books covered war history and tactics, you noted, with a few western novels sprinkled in between. 

 

“I’m not,” he deadpanned, walking behind his desk to sit down. “And I’ll remind you, the only reason I’m  _ in _ an office right now is because of  _ you _ ,” he jabbed a finger in your direction, making you straighten up and purse your lips. You knew he was right--he was here because your scores in most areas were abysmal at best, and you had him to thank for their improvement. “Now sit down already and start askin’ yer questions.”

 

You obeyed, sitting in one of the plush chairs with a soft thud as you hit the leather. Now that you were there and Jesse was available for all your questions, you found yourself speechless. You had been so focused on getting his attention you forgot to think of actual questions to ask.

 

There was silence for a few moments. Enough to make Jesse quirk a brow curiously and enough to make you start sweating nervously.

 

“...was he good at what he did? And...and what did he do?” you stammered out, leaning forward in your seat.

 

“One of the best,” Jesse said with a nod. “And what he did was mostly undercover operations. Most if not all which are classified,” he added the last part when you opened your mouth to press further, making you clench your teeth instead. 

 

“...what sort of man was he?” you continued, keeping your gaze locked with his.

 

“An asshole,” Jesse said flatly, and you couldn’t help but let out a strangled laugh at that. You shouldn’t have been surprised, really.

 

“Guess that sounds about right,” you said, leaning back into your chair. You felt some sort of disappointment in your chest, and you realized you had hoped for a different answer.

 

Jesse must have seen the disappointment in your eyes because he sighed and straightened up, taking his hat off for a moment to brush a hand through his hair. “Yep, he was a real pain in the ass...but he wasn’t all bad. He did his work well and…” he trailed off, looking you over. You sat completely still, waiting for him to continue.

 

“...an he would never shut up about his family,” Jesse finished, putting his hat back on top of his head. “Had blasted pictures and everythin’. Talked about his wife, talked about his kid, talked about the little house in the little town ya’ grew up in. Honestly, most of it helped us track you down later, not gonna lie.”

 

“He...talked about us?” you gave a small scorff, looking down to your hands. You had begun to clean the dirt from underneath them. “That sounds like a petty lie, sir.”

 

“It’s not,” Jesse leaned forward, arms crossed over the table. “He talked about makin’ amends and even tried sendin’ yer ma a couple thousand. She didn’t take’em though, from what I gathered.”

 

“She doesn’t take money from people like us,” you said flatly, averting your gaze over to the bookshelves beside you. “Even if she’s starving. She hates dishonest work.”

 

“Sounds like a great woman,” Jesse said, tilting his head. “...you’ve asked yer questions, now I think I’m owed one,” he didn’t pause long enough for you to interject. “Why  _ did _ you follow yer father’s footsteps?”

 

You froze, back stiffening as you shot him a glare. It was as though a wall had suddenly surfaced between the two of you, with how you defenses all flew into action. You stopped picking your nails and instead dug them into your wrist, biting your tongue.

 

“Sensitive topic, eh?” he said with a dry chuckle, leaning back. He reached into one of his desk drawers and pulled out a pack of cigars, lighting one up before holding the box out to you. “Cigar?”

 

“Don’t smoke,” you said dryly. He shrugged and tossed it back into the drawer, taking a long drag of smoke. 

 

There was a pause in conversation as he patiently waited for your answer. The smoke drifted through the small office and you briefly wondered if smoking was allowed indoors. 

 

“...I had to,” you finally said, breaking the quiet. Jesse motioned for you to keep going, and after a deep breath (that almost made you cough from secondhand smoke) you did just that.

 

“Dad left after one of his heists because the cops were on his ass. Mom didn’t want anything to do with him and handed all the cash he gave us to the authorities, making us poor again. We were starving, and I was too young to get a real job so I started doing the only thing I knew how to do--I started conning.”

 

“He taught you, then?” 

 

“He did, yeah,” you confirmed, albeit with some resentment. “Father-daughter bonding time, he said. He painted it as harmless--just ripping off a few big corporations for a few bucks and the like. But I learned enough to start doing my own operations once he was gone. Fake charities and the such….” you trailed off, gazing out the window behind Jesse. “...I told mom I got a part-time job as a cashier, but she caught on real quick and chewed me out.”

 

“Then you left?” Jesse pressed on, intrigued. You sighed, nodding.

 

“Yeah, though it was more like I was kicked out. ‘ _ Go join your no-good father if you’re going to be a petty thief!’ _ she said. Thing was, I couldn’t find the asshole. So I had to just...keep doing what I was doing. And I got good at it.”

 

“All alone?”

 

“All alone,” you nodded, resuming your nail-cleaning. “It wasn’t hard, really. You just need a pretty smile and a convincing lie for the small things. ‘ _ Help, I need money to get gas to see my dying father _ ’ or ‘ _ please, I have kids at home--can you help me buy these groceries? I’m so sorry…’ _ ...that sort of thing,” you gave a half-smile, feeling heavy and tired suddenly. “...is this a confession booth or somethin’? Feels shitty.”

 

“Admittin’ doin’ wrong usually don’t feel good, darlin’,” he said, finally giving you his trademark grin. “Thanks fer sharin’, though.”

 

“Yeah well, I have the next question,” you said, giving him a look. “...I heard you had the same option as me. Multiple times, actually. So I have two questions,” he gave you a look of surprise as you continued. 

 

“What was your crime? And…” you paused. “...why are you helping me? Just orders? A favor to my dad?”

 

“Now those two questions have pretty long answers to’em,” Jesse said with another laugh, standing. “Both which are confidential,” he winked and you deflated, realizing he wasn’t going to answer either of them.

 

“W-wait, you can’t leave me hanging like that! I told you about me!” you jumped to your feet. “That’s not fair!”

 

“Life’s not fair, Barrett,” he replied smoothly, still smiling. “Besides, ya’ didn’t tell me  _ everythin’ _ . So I’m not about to tell  _ you _ everythin’.”

 

Your jaw dropped as he began to stride towards the door, opening it for you again. 

 

“Ladies first.”

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

“That  _ jackass _ ,” you seethed in the bunkhouse, ripping your dirty sheets off to be washed later. You started replacing them with fresh ones as Marcey leaned over the top bunk to look down at you.

 

“Get rejected?” she asked teasingly, making you shoot a deadly glare back up at her. She flinched, holding her hands up in front of her. “Joking, joking, sheesh...what happened?”

 

“He knows more about my dad than he’s letting on and won’t fucking tell me,” you seethed, tugging your sheets up. “He’s the whole damn reason I’m here and I’m not getting the full story.”

 

“You’re  _ dad _ is why you’re here?” she asked, confused. You hadn’t actually shared the details of your capture with her, beyond it including Jesse and getting the prison-or-service option. With the way she swung her feet out of bed and let them dangle off the side, you were about to.

 

“Apparently he was a more notorious con artist than I thought, and so he was enlisted after  _ he _ was caught. Thing is, I don’t  _ really _ know what he did or what made him so special. But he’s the reason I’m here because he kicked the damn bucket and I was next up on the Barrett family list, I guess,” you threw yourself onto your freshly-made bed with a groan, hugging your pillow tightly.

 

“So  _ that’s _ what you did before this?” Marcey’s voice was full of astonishment and...admiration? She climbed down the ladder and looked at you, eyes sparkling. “You were a... _ con artist _ ?”

 

“Yeah, I was,” you replied tartly, refusing to look back at her. “And I was doing great before the fucking cowboy came for me.”

 

“Wow...I never would have guessed--I always thought you, y’know,  _ killed _ someone.”

 

_ Now _ you looked back at her with a disbelieving look, motioning with your hands as if to say  _ what the hell? _

 

“Well, you just...y’know...you aren’t  _ charming _ really, but you sure have a temper. So I figured you killed someone or somethin’ to get life in prison, you know? It’s not uncommon here so it’s not like I was judging…”

 

“I can’t believe this. Everyone thinks I’m a murderer?” you asked before groaning again, throwing your pillow over your face. 

 

“Maybe not  _ everyone _ but uhm...yeah, most of us,” Marcey laughed, trying to inject humor into the situation. It didn’t work, and her face fell as she watched you lay lifelessly beneath your pillow.

 

“...you uh...you heading to sleep, there?”

  
“Wake me and you’re dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No life for meeeeeEEEEEE I'm just posting all the time now I guess whatever. It's just so easy to write this--and I got sO MUCH PLANNED. Gotta get it out of my system guys. I really do.
> 
> Hoping Reyes is in the next chapter ;D


	5. Now Do It Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “TRAINING IS OVER,” you heard from the side, looking over to see Reyes standing tall, arms crossed. “Everyone get back to the barracks until your next assignment! Dismissed!”
> 
>  
> 
> You felt nauseous as he spoke, because his eyes landed right on you and you knew, you knew you were going to get an ear full. Marcey seemed oblivious to your despair as she giddily grabbed at your arm, whispering “he’s looking at us!” in your ear.

“Ow, fuck!” you felt your feet get swiped from under you, landing painfully on your back. A puff of dirt came up around where you fell, making you cough as you groaned in pain.

 

    It was hand-to-hand combat day.

 

    “Sorry not sorry,” Marcey laughed down at you, hands on her hips. Her hair spilled around her face as she offered you a hand, which you begrudgingly accepted before standing up.

 

    “You’re not usually this rough on me, what gives?” You muttered, rubbing your sore back. The rest of the recruits were training around you--a chaos of bodies being thrown and punched and kicked. And you felt especially like a punching bag today, with how Marcey ruthlessly delivered blow after blow.

 

    It’s not as if the extra effort was necessary on her part. You were pretty easy to beat.

 

    “Ah, well, about that,” she said, helping brush the dirt from your uniform. “I heard the Commander is coming to see how we’re progressing, now that we’re halfway through our regime. And you know how I feel about the Commander, B,” she gave you a wide grin that made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

 

    Right. Her infatuation with Reyes was the reason you were getting the shit beaten out of you. Made sense.

 

    Suddenly you stiffened though, realizing what she had just said, scanning the area for any sign of the man that signed you up for Blackwatch.

 

    You didn’t see him, but you saw Jesse watching you from a distance with a frown of disapproval.

 

    _He’s going to see me get my ass whooped,_ you thought to yourself, putting one hand to your forehead in dismay. You had finally been improving in all other areas of your training, but hand-to-hand?

 

    That hadn’t been going so well.

 

    “Look alive!” Marcey said, giving you just enough time to block a kick to your chest. You slid back a few inches, growling in annoyance as she started to pick up the pace again. You hadn’t even had time to rest, and your ribs still throbbed from the last punch she delivered to them.

 

    “Think you could just--give me this one---Marcey--” you said between hits, barely managing to dodge and block. She laughed at your suggestion, aiming for your shoulder.

   

    “Hell no! You got McCree--Reyes is _mine_ ,” she said, landing a fist to your cheek. You stumbled back a few feet, tenderly rubbing your jaw.

 

    “Ok, first off, there’s nothing going on between us and this is the _only_ favor I’ll ever ask of you--”

 

    “Can’t hear you!”

 

    You swore as her foot connected with your gut, sending you flying on your ass. You sputtered a bit, feeling saliva dripping down your chin as you curled up on the dirt. Marcey walked over, cocking a head before scratching her neck, looking apologetic.

 

    “Sorry, did I go too far?” she asked, offering her hand again. This time you rejected it, sending her a glare as you managed to get yourself back to your feet.

 

    “When I learn this shit, I’m beating your ass,” you threatened, making her laugh again. You meant it though--you’d really rip her a new one once you learned how to.

 

    “Oh shit, B, it’s him!” you suddenly heard her gasp, covering her mouth as she pointed to the sidelines. You glanced over, seeing a familiar man now standing beside Jesse with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face.

 

    You sighed and looked down at your boots, knowing they were not only talking about you _right now_ but that they also just saw you get your ass kicked. Again.

 

    “Alright, this time really try, ok?” Marcey said, spacing herself from you a little ways. “It’s more impressive if you fight back!”

 

    “Jesus, Marcey, that’s what I’ve been _doing_ ,” you said, growing more and more frustrated by the minute. “Let me catch up before you-- _whoa!_ ” you barely dodged a kick aimed for your face, giving her a bewildered look as you regained your composure. She hadn’t ever aimed for your head like that, but now it looked like she was out for blood.

 

    Yours, as fate would have it.

 

    “Fuck fuck fuck--” you continued to curse under your breath as you dodged and blocked repeatedly, barely managing to stay on your toes against your bunk mate. You jumped over her leg as she tried to sweep your feet out from under you again, only for her to flip over and land yet another kick to your gut.

 

    You hit the ground with a roll, clutching your stomach as you scrambled to get up, cheeks flushed from rage and embarrassment.

 

    “Alright you little bitch, I swear I’ll get one hit on you today--” you started, only to hear a booming voice interrupt.

 

    “ _TRAINING IS OVER_ ,” you heard from the side, looking over to see Reyes standing tall, arms crossed. “Everyone get back to the barracks until your next assignment! _Dismissed!_ ”

 

    You felt nauseous as he spoke, because his eyes landed right on you and you knew, you _knew_ you were going to get an ear full. Marcey seemed oblivious to your despair as she giddily grabbed at your arm, whispering “ _he’s looking at us!”_ in your ear.

 

    As the rest of the recruits began to disband you watched Reyes stomp towards you, Jesse only a foot behind him. You thought Marcey would either pass out or rip your arm off at this rate, though as soon as Reyes was close enough she snapped into a salute.

 

    “Sir!” she said as professionally as possible. You wondered if you were supposed to salute, too, so you half-heartedly clicked your heels together and gave him a sloppy salute next to Marcey.

 

    “Stand down,” Reyes said, waving his hand. “I need to speak with Barrett. You can head back to the barracks,” he hardly gave Marcey a second glance, and you felt your heart sink with the realization that this looked _very bad_. You were about to apologize to Marcey when Reyes spoke again.

 

    “ _Get going_.”

 

    You heard Marcey hesitate only for a moment before she began to shuffle off, and you closed your eyes to imagine the look of betrayal on her face. She had just spent the last hour trying to impress her little crush, and here you were getting ‘private time’ with him.

 

    You expected a hard conversation that night.

 

    “Now _you_ ,” Reyes said, eyes boring down on you. “ _You_ are a disgrace.”

 

    “Ouch, ok,” you muttered, rubbing your arm awkwardly. You felt like a child about to get a scolding. “Look, it’s not like I trained my whole life to join a military operation--”

 

    “No, but I’ve seen office workers with better scores than you,” he interrupted, making your cheeks go red. “McCree has managed to raise most of your scores, at least, but they’re still only passable at best. If you’re going to be part of my unit, you’re going to need to do a lot better. Starting _now_.”

 

    Reyes turned, walking a few paces away from you. You stood quietly, unsure if you were supposed to follow or not until he turned back around, making a motion with his hand.

 

    “Show me what you got.”

 

    “Excuse me?”

 

    You stared at Reyes with your jaw dropped, cold dread suddenly pooling in your stomach. He made another motion and after a quick glance towards the uncharacteristically quiet Jesse, you realized he was serious.

 

    “D-don’t you have more important things to do?” you stammered out, trying to find an escape. “I don’t think this is--”

 

    “If you don’t attack first, then I will,” you barely had enough time to blink before Reyes closed the gap between you, the familiar feeling of a fist to your gut making you choke. You stumbled back, struggling for air before you felt an arm grasp your side.

 

    The world spun for a few seconds before turning upside down as you landed on your back, a small squeak escaping your lips as you registered what had just happened. You had thought _Marcey_ was bad. But this?

 

    It felt like he intended to kill you.

 

    “Get up,” you heard Reyes say as he walked back to his starting place, not even offering you a hand. You rolled to your side, sputtering a few times before standing.

 

    “Not...not even going to _instruct_ me?” you breathed.

 

    “There’s nothing to instruct,” he said, turning to face you again. “Except that you need to _learn when to fight back_.”

 

    “Excuse me?”

 

    Your answer came in the form of Reyes dashing for you again, fist aimed for your neck. You were more prepared the second time around and ducked just in time, jumping back the second you were able to.

 

    “Ok, the surprise attacks are getting old. What are you talking about?” you spat out, still tense in case he answered with another fist.

 

    “All you do it dodge and block,” he said, cracking his knuckles. “You never _strike_ . You’re too big a coward to fight back, with all those years of _running_.”

 

    Your mouth went dry and you straightened, clearly offended. But as you tried to think of a come back you realized _he was right_.

 

    “...ah shit,” you muttered, looking down to your hands. “...yeah well, I never see any openings so--”

 

    “ _Make them_ ,” he cut in, getting into position. “If you don’t, I’ll make you.”

 

    “I don’t see how you can even--” you were cut off for the third time with Reyes dashing for you. You lifted your arms and blocked a punch, then jumped back before he could land a kick. He didn’t relent after you put space between the two of you, however, and continued to assault you with hits strong enough to leave a mark.

 

    “Stop--wait--fuck--” you tried to make him pause between hits, but Reyes had a determination in his eyes that told you _he wouldn’t stop until you made him_.

 

    You felt your back press up against one of the compound’s walls and a chill went down your spine. The fact you had run into a wall showed just how far you had ran from him, and now...now you had nowhere else to run. You looked over, watching in slow motion as white knuckles came for your face.

 

    Instinct drove you to duck before his fist landed, your own fist coming into contact with his ribs a split second later. He hopped back a few steps then, allowing you to slide down the wall to catch your breath. It didn’t look like your hit had much of an effect on him, but his scowl had disappeared and was replaced by a satisfied smirk.

 

    “That’s more like it,” he said, walking back towards you. You winced when he held out a hand, expecting another hit. But when it never came, you cautiously took his hand and felt yourself get lifted from the ground.

 

    “Now do it again.”

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

    It was near curfew when you finally stumbled into the fresh air outside, taking a deep breath as though it’d be your last. Every inch of your body felt covered in bruises, but you found some pride in the ones on your knuckles--you had finally started fighting back.

 

    “ _You still lack strength, but you can make it up with your speed,” Reyes said, patting your shoulder. “For now, go get some rest. We’ll be doing this again tomorrow.”_

 

    You grimaced at the memory, closing your eyes. You didn’t know if you had it in you to do not only your usual PT but also this personal training with the Commander. It felt impossible--too painful and tiring.

 

    “Bet ya’ wish Mercy was  here now, huh?” you whirled around, fist raised, only to come face to face with Jesse. He noticed your reaction and gave you a cheeky grin--which almost made you follow through with your punch.

 

    “Yeah, that staff of hers would really help me out right about now,” you said, letting your fist fall and relax. “I’m gonna be honest...I don’t know if I’ll be able to move in the morning.”

 

    “He’ll make you do it, one way or another,” Jesse commented, taking a fresh cigar out of a new pack. He was about to offer you one before remembering his past offer, pocketing them instead. “Want me to walk ya’ over to the barracks?”

 

    “What, think someone’s gonna jump me?” you asked, scoffing. He just shrugged at that, looking up towards the stars in the sky.

 

    “Was raised bein’ told to help keep women safe at night is all,” he commented, his thumb hooking around his belt. “Old habits die hard...right?” he glanced back to you, and you scowled right back.

 

    “Yeah yeah, save the moral talk for another time,” you said, rubbing your sore arm. “...see you tomorrow, sir.”

 

    “Jesse,” he said, making you stop mid-turn. You furrowed your eyebrows when he continued. “Jus’ call me Jesse. I couldn’t ever stand bein’ called ‘sir’.”

 

    “...uhm...ok, Jesse,” you said, his name foreign on your tongue. “...well uh...good night,” you nodded once, hesitating before you turned around to head for the barracks.

 

    You didn’t hear him leave behind you.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

“I can’t believe you,” you heard Marcey say above you in her bunk. She was sulking, and had refused to look at you when you walked into the barracks. You let out a sigh, having known this would be her reaction.

 

    “Still nothing going on,” you said, getting beneath the covers. “With either of them.”

 

    “You’re still getting their attention though,” she muttered. You could hear her shifting to her side. “...why you? Why not me? I’ve worked so hard and I’m here by choice…”

 

    “Honestly, I wish I knew,” you replied earnestly, feeling your eyelids get heavier. “...but trust me, if I could give their attention to you, I would.”

 

    “...really?”

 

    There was a pause as you took a deep breath, closing your eyes. You just wanted to sleep--to stop feeling so much pain.

  
    “Really.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Movin' along, movin' along. Also just wanted to say thank you to EVERYONE who has commented on my piece so far. Comments are by far my favorite thing to receive, and looking at them inspires me to keep going c:


	6. Good Company an’ Whiskey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Good. She deserves the recognition,” you said before pushing yourself away from the wall, stretching your arms in front of you. “She works hard.”
> 
> “Not as hard as you, though,” the compliment caught you off guard, making you freeze where you stood with a stare. You frowned, opening your mouth to say something when he continued. “Don’t think she got near as many bruises, either.”
> 
> “Ok, that second part was more like it,” you said, snorting as you leaned your shoulder back against the wall. You crossed your arms, giving him a curious look. “What’s with the sudden flattery though?”
> 
> “What, I can’t compliment a pretty girl like you?” he said, winking--winking yet again. You stared at him for a while longer, jaw clenched before finally breaking the silence.
> 
> “Are you hitting on me?”

The rest of your training was a blur, to be honest. You patched things up with Marcey as best you could, though she started to hang out with the other recruits a little more often now that you had nightly training sessions with the Commander. You supposed that was fair, though it was considerably more lonely without her following you around hour-to-hour.

 

    Your bruises lessened considerably as well, with time. You were soon able to not only dodge most of Reyes’ hits but were able to land a few of your own. You didn’t think he was giving one-hundred percent, but he looked more than satisfied when you landed three consecutive hits out of blind rage and frustration. Apparently, that had been the goal all along.

 

Your shooting was top-notch now as well--top of the class, in fact, which Jesse announced proudly once the rankings were listed. Jealous murmurs slowly shifted to impressed chatter now, and while there were still some looks of resentment aimed your way there were also some that looked at you with admiration, impressed by your improvement. It was odd, getting both positive and negative attention for such a long period of time. Had this all been one big gig for you, you would have left during the second week.

 

    Hell, maybe even the first week.

 

    “Yet here I am,” you whispered to yourself, chugging down the rest of the water from your water bottle. You wiped your mouth and leaned against the barracks, taking a moment to just enjoy the fresh air.

 

    “You look like yer havin’ a good day,” you heard from beside you. Your mouth twitched--these days you weren’t sure if you wanted to scowl or smile at Jesse, so you usually just gave him a look of indifference.

 

    But hell, he was right. It was a nice day outside, so you figured a smile couldn’t hurt.

 

    “Hey s--Jesse,” you said, looking over to him. You were still getting used to not calling him sir--at least, when you were alone. You insisted on calling him sir when in front of the others because honestly you didn’t need any more questions. “What brings you here?”

 

    “Just deliverin’ some good news is all,” he joined you in leaning against the barracks, tilting his hat so the sun couldn’t blind him. “Guess where yer sittin’ on the listings.”

 

    “I already know I’m first in shooting,” you said, raising a brow. “We went over that--”

 

    “I meant _overall_.”

 

    You blinked, making a silent ‘o’ with your mouth. You tilted your head, thinking it over before shrugging.

 

    “I don’t know, tenth? Twelfth?”

 

    “Second, actually,” you blinked a second time and felt your jaw go slack. You must have looked pretty ridiculous because Jesse started laughing beside you, shaking his head. “That surprised?”

 

    “Well yeah, I didn’t think I’d be going from zero to hero in here,” you said, letting out an incredulous laugh. “I’m seriously second? Who’s first, Marcey?”

 

    “Yeah, that’s right,” he said, making you smile.

 

    “Good. She deserves the recognition,” you said before pushing yourself away from the wall, stretching your arms in front of you. “She works hard.”

 

    “Not as hard as you, though,” the compliment caught you off guard, making you freeze where you stood with a stare. You frowned, opening your mouth to say something when he continued. “Don’t think she got near as many bruises, either.”

 

    “Ok, that second part was more like it,” you said, snorting as you leaned your shoulder back against the wall. You crossed your arms, giving him a curious look. “What’s with the sudden flattery though?”

 

    “What, I can’t compliment a pretty girl like you?” he said, winking-- _winking_ yet _again_. You stared at him for a while longer, jaw clenched before finally breaking the silence.

 

    “Are you _hitting_ on me?”

 

There was only a second of silence before Jesse broke out laughing. He drawed it out by pretending to wipe a tear from his eye, and while waiting for him to reply your face turned a deep shade of scarlet.

 

    “Y-you looked so _surprised_ ,” he said, shaking his head. “I won’t be gettin’ that face out of my head for a while.”

 

    “Well _sorry_ for getting _mixed signals_ ,” you said, straightening yourself out again. It felt like all your blood had rushed to your face, and you briefly wondered if you’d pass out from poor circulation as a result.

 

    “Nah nah, you got it right,” Jesse continued with his grin. “I was hittin’ on ya. Hopin’ you’d join me for a drink to celebrate yer scores, actually.”

 

    “A….a drink…?” Yes, by this point passing out could very well be a real threat. Even yours ears were red now, mostly from the shock than anything else. “...Is this even uh, _allowed_ ? And...and where the hell are we going to grab a drink _all the way out here_?”

 

    “It’s in m’office,” he said, jabbing a thumb in its general direction. “Figured it’d be easy to pull off, too, ‘cause yer always stuck around me anyways.”

 

    It was true. No one would question you going into his office for a while--at least, not any more than they already were. And when you thought it over, you realized you hadn’t had a drink since before your last gig and were well due for one.

 

    You tilted your head to the side, starting to think it over a bit more rationally. In the end, you didn’t really see a reason to _reject_ the offer.

 

    “It better be a damn good drink for what I went through,” you said as flatly as you could manage. He smiled and nodded his head.

 

    “You best bet it is.”

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

    It wasn’t until later in the day you’d make your way towards his office, trying to look as casual as possible with your hands in your cargo pants’ pockets. Hardly anyone even spared the time to look at you as the day began to come to an end, and it was easy to stroll up to Jesse’s door and give it a knock.

 

    “Come in,” you heard him say from the other side. You reached for the handle only to hesitate, giving your surroundings a second look before heading inside.

 

    “Hey,” you said lightly, shuffling into the office. It looked exactly the same as before, save for the smoke that was already filling it. You coughed and waved your hand in front of your face, which made little difference. Jesse looked slightly apologetic as he snuffed out his cigar in a tin ashtray.

 

    “Didn’t think you’d actually come, if I’m bein’ honest,” He said, grinning as he motioned to the door. “Go on an’ close it.”

 

    You obeyed, though the click of the door made you feel overwhelmingly _trapped_. It was difficult to brush off your anxiety to give him a polite smile.

 

    “Well, I said I would so I did,” you replied smoothly, earning a look from Jesse that you couldn’t quite interpret. “Also, I want you to know I fully expect to get drunk tonight for the effort I put in these past few months.”

 

    “Well, can’t let ya get _too_ hammered, since ya still gotta walk to the barracks all sober-like,” he pushed his chair back, reaching beneath the desk to produce two shot glasses and a body of whisky. Strong whisky, if the smell was anything to go by once the top was popped off.

 

    “Bummer,” you said as you sat down in front of him, watching him fill one of the glasses before passing it over. You caught it, looking down at the amber liquid with a thoughtful gaze. “Guess we’ll have to drink again, once I’ve graduated. When there’s less red-tape.”

 

    “Yeah well, that’s what Blackwatch excels at. Gettin’ rid of the tape,” you couldn’t tell if he was proud of the fact or not. It was a neutral reply at best.

 

    Before you could analyze further he raised his glass to you, lips pulled back in a half-grin. “For yer scores, darlin’.”

 

    “For my scores,” you returned, clinking your glass against his before tossing back your drinks. The taste was awful, but the burn was good so you slid your glass back to him for a second. “...so what’s your angle, cowboy?” you said, resting your chin on your fist as you leaned over his desk.

 

    “No angle, jus’ good company an’ whiskey,” he replied, giving you a look you could only describe as _coy_.

 

    “Mm...is that so…” you trailed off until he passed you your shot glass, though his hand stopped you before you could throw it all back.

 

    “Wait a second,” he said, his fingers wrapped around your wrist. His human fingers--the ones that felt rough and warm. “We’re gonna play a little game here--makes for a little more conversation and a little less drinkin’.”

 

    “Knew it,” you said, putting your glass back down as he released your wrist. “Totally called it. What’s the game? Questionnaire?”

 

    “Alright, ya’ got me,” he said, laughing as he threw his hands up in mock-surrender. “Was gonna have ya’ take a shot before answering a question I had.”

 

    “That’s an old trick, getting someone drunk before asking questions and favors,” you replied, completely unimpressed.

 

    “Yeah well, it works both ways though,” he continued, flashing you a devilish grin. Your fingers tightened around your glass at his words, eyes narrowing by just a fraction.

 

    “...alright,” you said, taking the bait. “But this time _I_ get the first question.”

 

    “Fair enough,” he said, resting an arm on his armrest. “Since I know so much about ya’ an’ all.”

 

    “Exactly,” you muttered, looking back to your whiskey. You thought it over--all the questions you had and how you wouldn’t be able to down enough drinks to ask them all. “...how’d you lose the arm?”

 

    “Train,” he flexed his robotic arm, moving the fingers one-by-one.

 

    “A train? What, did you hold your arm out the window?” he laughed, shaking his head.

 

    “Nah, nothin’ like that. I was robbin’ the thing but had t’bail out the back. When I stopped rollin’ I had forgotten all about the other train behind’em. My arm was on the rails and next thing you know-- _crunch_ ,” he waved his hand around to add effect. You couldn’t help but wince at the imagery playing through your mind.

 

    “That sucks,” you deadpanned, making him chuckle. You didn’t know what else to say to a man losing his arm on the tracks. He didn’t seemed bothered though, just brushed it off and kept going.

 

    “Coulda’ been my head,” he tapped a finger to his temple before pointing it your way. “Now, it’s _my_ turn. So take yer shot.”

 

    _So it hits me when it’s my turn. Gotcha’._ You thought dryly, doing as told before sliding the glass back.

 

    “Hit me,” you said, leaning back with an air of confidence. You were pretty sure you knew what he’d be asking, so you had no real concern.

 

He looked you over before clearing his throat.

 

    “Ever dated?”

 

    “ _What_?” You nearly choked on air at his question, cheeks reddening. You had been dead-wrong in your assumptions and, quite frankly, didn’t know how to retaliate.

 

    “Have ya ever dated?” he repeated calmly, unphased by your reaction. If anything he was now twice as amused, eyes sparkling under the rim of his hat.

 

    “...kinda,” you gave your half-committed answer, already starting to clean your nails. “Long story.”

 

    “Well, I just so happen to have the time.”

 

    “Hng...of course you do,” you sighed, closing your eyes. “...I flirted with potential suck--uhm, targets, quite often,” you reopened your eyes, though you redirected them to the American Flag beside you. “...one time it...went further than it was supposed to. Started seeing this guy all the time and it started to be less business and more _real_ to me.”

 

    “What happened?” you frowned at him, narrowing your eyes.

 

    “Isn’t that a second question?”

 

    “Ya’ caught me,” he grinned before picking up his glass, throwing it back with experienced ease. “I reckon it’s yer turn, then.”

 

    You sat in relative silence as you thought your question over, trying to find the _big_ ones--the _important_ questions.

 

    “...alright, I’ll cave. What crime did you commit before landing here?” you couldn’t hide the curiosity from your eyes, and you were surprised when Jesse immediately started to answer.

 

    “Was part of the Deadlock gang,” he began, locking his hands together by his chin. You could tell he wasn’t used to being without a cigar, since he initially reached up to grab it. “Smuggled in all sorts of illegal weaponry an’ military hardware. Even got some prototypes, sometimes. The sort of stuff governments would pay a lotta’ money for, if ya catch my drift.”

 

    “You answered that pretty quick,” you noted, a little wary now. “Last time you were all tight-lipped about everything.”

 

    “Guess it’s the alcohol,” he winked, and you had no choice but to accept his answer for the time being. He reached over and downed his shot, looking at you pointedly. “My turn.”

 

    “Yeah yeah, I know,” you muttered, watching him fill your glass. He slid it over and readied his question.

 

    “So...what happened?” he repeated his last question, making you grimace as you made tiny swirls in your shot glass by tilting it around. You had hoped he’d let go of the dating bit, but he seemed dead set on wringing the rest out of you.

 

    “Weren’t compatible, that’s all,” you tried, only to deflate under his stare. The excuse was lame and you knew it--how could you not, when you were supposed to be the master of excuses? “Alright we...he...he found out about….well, _everything_ ,” you made a circular motion with your hands. “The cons and all the money...all the lies--everything. And he didn’t take well to it. I tried to convince him it was all going to be alright, but the cops were knocking on my door in the morning.”

 

    “So you ran,” it was less of a question and more of a statement. You gave him a look that he ignored, filling his shot glass up early. “It was in the reports. A man called in with tips and you--the suspect--went and ran off once confronted. It was an impressive car chase, if anythin’.”

 

    “Thanks,” you said the words a bit bitterly before taking your shot. You could feel the alcohol already clouding your mind, impairing your judgement. You hoped the game would end soon.

 

    But it didn’t. It went on for another few rounds, with you getting tipsier and tipsier with every drink. Jesse hardly seemed affected at all, though you noted his ears were a shade redder than before. You figured that was about as close to a drunken blush you’d get with him.

 

    “Last question,” he said, watching you sway in your seat. He held an unusually serious expression now, which even in your state began to raise red flags. “Why did you follow in your father’s footsteps?”

 

    “H...huh?” you narrowed your eyes--this time because it was hard to see _one_ of him. “I don’t...y-you already asked me that l-last time,” you managed to slur out the words, choosing each one carefully.

 

    “And ya didn’t answer. Not with the truth, anyways,” he leaned forward, eyes boring into yours. “You hate your old man way too much t’be following him like that.”

 

    You stared down at your empty shot glass, deep in thought. You eventually slid it back to him with a little more force than necessary, using the desk to stand yourself up. He raised a brow at you, but you raised your middle finger to him.

 

    “ _Fuck_ you,” you hissed before glaring around the room. “Let me guess. Commander Reyes is listenin’ in right now or one of his damn subordinates is, am I right?”

 

    “I don’t--”

 

    “Cut the crap, _Jesse_ . I’m a fuckin’ _con artist_ for Christ’s sake!” You slammed your hands on the desk, glaring with all the intensity you could muster. “You think I can’t spot a s-set-up like this from a mile away? Flirt a little, get on my good side and get me a bit drunk so I’ll start spilling all my deepest, darkest secrets?” You scoffed, beside yourself with rage. “This is fuckin’ _elementary_.”

 

    Jesse stood then, holding a hand out as you started to sway on your feet.

 

    “Look, it’s--”

 

    “Shut _up_ ,” you waved his hand away, bruising your wrist when it made contact with his metal one. You hardly noticed the pain as you jabbed a finger towards his chest. “Look, _bucko_ \--I don’t know what my father did for or...or...or _to_ you guys, but I frankly don’t give a shit. Not anymore," you tried to straighten yourself, but that was hard to do with the world spinning around you.

 

    “Hey, calm down--”

 

    “ _Don’t fucking tell me to calm down_ ,” you almost screamed at him, and to both of your surprise you felt tears begin to well up in your eyes. All the months of frustration and questions and _pain_ were bursting forth, with this drinking session being your last straw.

 

    “If you want me to be my father then you’re s- _SHIT_ out of _luck_ ,” your chest was heaving now with labored breaths, the edges of your vision getting just a little darker with every word. “I am...I am _nothing_ like him. So throw me in p-prison if that’s...if that’s….”

 

    “_____?”

 

    You heard your first name for the first time in months as your vision finally faded. Your legs crumpled beneath you, though you felt Jesse catch you before you could hit your head.

 

    There was a brief moment of silence as you felt him shift your weight around, slipping his other arm beneath your legs to begin carrying you.

 

    “...that’s all we wanted t’hear, darlin’.”

  
    And then you were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little longer than the others, but here we gooOOOO. Again, thank you for the lovely comments ;u; <3
> 
> Jesse shoulda' known better than to pull one over on a con artist, yeah?
> 
> But maybe reader should have known they cAN'T HOLD THEIR ALCOHOL.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JoK5BjlmGBY&index=4&list=PLSADnsnnE3nISWIKRDGJDw9WUPetzOVFW
> 
> Listened to that while writing lmao


	7. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “After everything I’ve done for you, you’re really gonna hold back on me? Just admit you’re with him already!”
> 
> “I’m not,” you argued back, your head pounding painfully. It was reminiscent of your concussion, really, minus one Mercy and McCree. “It was just to celebrate my scores. Honest.”
> 
> “Bullshit,” Marcey huffed, hands on her hips as she stared you down. “...I’m done. If you can’t even tell me the truth I want nothing to do with you,” she paused, pursing her lips for a moment before spitting out “I guess con artists never change.”

Graduation came quicker than you anticipated. Neither you nor Jesse had made mention of the night you had passed out in his office, silently agreeing your relationship was better off with things left unsaid. You did your best to act normal around him, and he did the same in turn (with much more ease than you would have imagined).

 

Marcey had officially cut you off after that night however, with news traveling fast among the other recruits that you had gone to Jesse’s office only to come out bridal-style in his arms heading for the nurse’s. Your hangover the next morning and the alcohol on your breath was enough for Marcey to yell you were holding out on her. 

 

“ _ After everything I’ve done for you, you’re really gonna hold back on me? Just admit you’re with him already!” _

 

__ _ “I’m not,” you argued back, your head pounding painfully. It was reminiscent of your concussion, really, minus one Mercy and McCree. “It was just to celebrate my scores. Honest.” _

 

__ _ “Bullshit,” Marcey huffed, hands on her hips as she stared you down. “...I’m done. If you can’t even tell me the truth I want nothing to do with you,” she paused, pursing her lips for a moment before spitting out “I guess con artists never change.” _

 

__ And that had been that. She left and neither of you spoke a word to each other unless it was absolutely necessary, despite being in the same bunk. You figured it was for the best, really--she hadn’t been  _ wrong _ when she said con artists never change.

 

Just thinking it over made you feel dirty.

 

“Barrett,” you stiffened, slowly turning to see Commander Reyes standing behind you, hands folded behind his back. He wore his usual scowl, a face you had become surprisingly used to through your training.

 

Not that it made him any less terrifying while he proceeded to beat the shit out of you, though.

  
  


“Commander,” you said with a nod, only realizing you should salute a moment later. He didn’t seem to care for it, though, as he looked sideways at the rest of the recruits going about their business. It was free hour, and you had been entertaining the idea of heading to the range.

 

“You should know you’re now at the top of your class,” he said, standing beside you. The way in which he delivered the news seemed more a  _ command _ than  _ fact _ . You suddenly glowered, turning to face him.

 

“There’s no way I overtook Marcey,” you said, feeling the familiar burn of rage in your chest. “Put me  _ back where I belong _ .”

 

“You might not know this, but only the top recruits join my unit directly,” he replied coldly, a dare in his eyes to fight back. “If you had done the work yourself there wouldn’t be a need to smudge your scores.”

 

You felt like punching him now, your fists balled up so tight your nails dug painfully into your palms. “She’s busted her ass so she could work under you. Unlike me, she actually  _ admires _ you--does that mean  _ anything  _ to you?”

 

“Should it?” He turned towards you now, looming over your smaller frame so you were cast in his shadow. “I believe you should be  _ thankful _ you’re not at the  _ bottom _ of your class, where you would have been if neither McCree or myself intervened.”

 

“I’d rather be on the bottom with honesty than at the top with a lie!” You shot back, your voice raising in pitch. Reyes leaned back at that, a smirk on his face as he let out a dark laugh.

 

“And what would you know about honesty?”

 

You straightened, the fire in your chest suddenly put out and replaced with a cold emptiness. You couldn’t find a way to reply, and your hesitation made Reyes look back towards the fields, satisfied. 

 

“...you should be rewarding the loyal, not boosting a criminal,” you muttered, also directing your gaze outwards. The fight had left your bones, Marcey’s face flashing through your mind.

 

“Are you saying you aren’t loyal?”

 

“Not going to deny it--my loyalty goes as far as it needs to so I don’t end up in prison. You knew that. Or you should have,” silence blanketed the two of you as you watched a couple of recruits practice hand-to-hand in the fields. You recognized one as Marcey herself after she landed a few kicks to the other’s gut, your own twisting at the recognition. 

 

“She  _ is _ good,” Reyes said casually, slowly looking back to you.

 

“The best. And you know it--so put her at the top,” you paused before taking a deep breath. “...if she doesn’t get onto your squad, I’m going to prison instead.”

 

Reyes let out a bark of laughter at that, turning back to face you fully. “That’s a deal I never thought you’d make. Your father didn’t argue when we moved  _ him _ up the ranks.”

 

“Well, like you heard in Jesse’s office--I’m  _ not my father _ ,” you put venom in your words, spitting them out as if they had dirtied your mouth. “Which is apparently what you  _ wanted _ , if I remember right. Might have been drunk off my rocker, but I’m pretty sure that’s what I heard.”

 

“Hm,” Reyes made an uncommitted noise, apparently thinking things over in his head as he loomed over you with a hard stare. 

 

“You’re staying at the top of your class,” he said abruptly, turning to leave. “ _ And _ you stay in Blackwatch. You wouldn’t survive in prison.”

 

“Think I have a fighting chance now, actually,” you called after him, only to be brushed off as he began to leave. You flipped him off as he left, watching his back until he turned a corner and disappeared. 

 

“...fuck,” you threw yourself to the ground with a thud, laying with your arms spread out as you looked to the clouds above. You tried--you had really  _ tried _ to be a good person, for once. For Marcey. But it had fallen through, and prison didn’t seem to be an option any longer. The sudden realization you couldn’t just quit like you thought made your chest and cheeks burn again, and you berated yourself for not seeing this coming.

 

“It’s all a scam. It’s all a lie,” you muttered, raising your arms to lay across your eyes. “I’m getting conned and I don’t even know the  _ reason _ .”

 

You laid there in silence for a few minutes, mulling over  _ everything _ , from start to finish. You had come a long ways, but you didn’t know in which direction and you didn’t know if it was for the better or worse.

 

“_____?”

 

You shot upright at the mention of your name, it’s unfamiliarity these days surprising you. At your feet stood Jesse, a half-apologetic look on his face for interrupting your thoughts. You sighed, not surprised by his presence. 

 

He offered you a hand and you took it, standing to your feet with a small huff. You brushed yourself off and gave him a questioning look.

 

“If you’re here to tell me the  _ good news _ , Reyes beat you to it,” you said bitterly. He sighed and scratched at his beard, looking unusually tired. 

 

“Yeah...didn’t think you’d take well to that,” he admitted, refocusing his gaze to his metal hand. “Don’t suppose he told ya yer getting a medal fer it, too?”

 

“Are you trying to help or not?” you spat, groaning as you ran a hand through your bangs. “Fucking hell, I try to be honest for  _ once _ and it falls through. This is bullshit.”

 

“Yeah, well, Blackwatch does whatever it needs to,” you glanced back to him at his neutral reply, trying to crack his expression.

 

You couldn’t.

 

“...you happy in Blackwatch, Jesse?” you asked after a moment, stuffing your hands into your pockets. “If you aren’t, I’d like a heads-up right about now.”

 

He let out a dry laugh, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m makin’ amends through it,” he said, hand to belt. “Did a lotta’ wrong back in the day….it’s a chance to do right. Dispense some justice.”

 

“Did you come to that conclusion before or after they threatened you with prison?”

 

Now you got a real laugh out of him, the mood lightening. He grinned, pulling out a cigar. “Mighta’ been a mix of both. But I really do think it’s a chance to right some wrongs,” as he lit his cigar he glanced back to you, his expression a tad more serious.

 

“Maybe you should consider it the same,” he suggested, making you scoff. You looked away, letting out a breath as you closed your eyes.

 

“Don’t you know, Jesse?” You said, offering him a smile--a small, deflated one. A dishonest one.

 

“ _ Con artists never change. _ ”

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

Graduation was drawing near, at a frightening pace. Maybe it was because you dreaded every day that they went by so fast, with no improvement between you and Marcey. You had stopped trying at some point and started to just brood alone, occasionally seeking out Jesse when you became desperate for social interaction.

 

It took a week to prep everyone for the ceremony, practicing marching steps and commands to show off later. You caught Reyes’ eye a few times during practice, and you gave him a displeased frown every time. 

 

He didn’t seem to care. It pissed you off.

 

“Alright recruits! Ceremony is tonight--here are the listings and medals to be received!” a drill sergeant shouted over the crowd, making you wince. You knew what was coming as he started from the bottom and worked his way up.

 

You felt frozen to the spot.

 

_ “...and as for first place, we have a tie for the first time in years between Marcey Allens and ____ Barrett!”  _

 

Your eyes widened, all your breath taken away in relief because  _ Marcey was still in first _ .

 

_ He had listened. _

 

As the rest of the recruits began to shower you both with praise and congratulations you snapped your eyes over to where Commander Reyes stood. Your eyes met again and he gave you a smirk that frankly made you want to punch and kiss him at the same time. It was  _ arrogant _ .

  
  


“Ceremony is tonight at 1700,” the drill sergeant’s voice interrupted the chatter that had begun between recruits, drawing everyone’s attention back to the front.  “Until then, you’re all free to spend your time as you wish.  _ Dismissed! _ ” 

 

Everyone’s heels snapped together in unison, hands raised in a salute. For once, you put some actual effort into it, unable to stop smiling. 

 

“ _ Yessir! _ ”

 

As the recruits began to dispense you felt someone tug at your arm. You looked over to see Marcey standing there, a sheepish look on her face. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it to clear her throat instead.

 

“...so, congratulations,” she said, as awkwardly as humanly possible. You couldn’t help but smile at it, because it was so  _ honest _ . 

 

“Right back at you,” you said, lightly punching her shoulder. “You deserve to be at the top.”

 

“Yeah, well….you too,” she returned your smile, cheeks tinged red. She then let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Ugh, I’ve been an ass to you, B.”

 

“Yep,” you said, hands in your pockets. She shot you a look, but it wasn’t serious in the least. “Guess you owe me a drink next, then.”

 

“Ha, that’s all it takes?” she sighed, holding her arms as she looked around the fields. “...it’s really happening, B. We’re getting out of here and we’re…” 

 

You saw her glance towards where Reyes had stood, a smile spreading across her face. “...we’re really gonna work under him. Commander Reyes.”

 

“Yeah, the both of us,” you said with a nod, watching her space off for a few moments before she sighed and looked back to you.

 

“I don’t want us to fight anymore. I was just...I was jealous, you know? You were getting so much attention and...and I really wanted to work under Reyes and--”

 

“I know,” you interrupted, raising a hand to stop her. “But for the record, I didn’t lie to you. There’s really nothing going on between me and Jesse. I should have invited you for drinks too.”

 

“Damn right you should have,” she said with a frown before laughing again. She looked like a weight had been lifted from her chest as she nodded a few times, unsure what to say next.

 

Silence filled the space between the two of you, neither sure how to continue. Marcey finally shifted her her weight, offering her hand to you.

 

“We good?” she asked timidly. You could tell she was scared you’d say no--she was scared you’d reject her peace offering and in the darkest corners of your mind you  _ wanted  _ to. Connections like these were dangerous. They bred weakness, they breed insecurity…

 

_ Con artists never change. _

 

You offered her a smile, reaching out to grasp her hand with yours. 

  
“Yeah, we’re good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I'm not super proud of this chapter but we GOT TO GET OUT OF BOOT CAMP. So while this would have been 10x more dramatic drawn out into 2 or even 3 chapters, I just felt it'd make the story lag behind. 
> 
> But if ya'll start saying it sucks ass I'll rewrite it lAUGHS AND CRIES. 
> 
> Hopefully we're starting Blackwatch next chapter ya'll. PS: we got like, tied votes for McCree and Reaper and it's making me laugh bc whO KNOWS.


	8. A Good Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Lucky man,” you heard the bartender say to Jesse, eyeing you both. “Never could convince two pretty ladies to accompany me,” he gave you a grin and you couldn’t help but laugh a little as Jesse leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eye.
> 
> “The trick’s in the hat,” he said, lifting it from his head for a moment. Everyone broke out laughing at that and the bartender slid you each a new drink.

Graduation took place midday--the warmest part of the day, now that fall was starting. Everyone was dressed up in their formal uniforms which had black long-sleeved jackets and silver pants with gold running along the sides. 

 

The gold was a reminder Blackwatch was still part of Overwatch.

 

You all stood in formation, legs spread shoulder-width apart with your hands folded behind your back, waiting for the ceremony to proceed. You were near the front with Marcey, since both of you were to receive medals for your work.

 

You didn’t want it. You still hadn’t earned it.

 

“Here we go,” you heard Marcey from beside you and your stomach did a flip as your superiors called your names, motioning for you to join them in front of the formation. 

 

You hardly felt the weight of the medal pinned to your chest, hardly heard the cheers from the rest of the recruits. You glanced to Marcey and she looked half-ready to cry, her lip stiff from trying to hold it back. 

 

You wished you could feel that way. 

 

But it wasn’t all bad and guilt-ridden. You shifted your gaze to both Jesse and Reyes, the former with a grin and the latter as stoic as ever. Jesse lifted his hat off to you, and you felt the weight in your chest lighten just a fraction because, for the first time in years, someone looked  _ proud of you _ .

 

Even though he knew you weren’t in first. 

 

The ceremony came to a close an hour after that, your joints stiff from standing so still the entire time. Marcey gave you a pat on the shoulder, grinning ear-to-ear as you watched the recruits begin separating.

 

“How’re your legs? Mine are  _ killing _ me,” she said with a laugh, stretching a leg out to prove her point. 

 

“Same here,” you said with a sigh, rubbing your also-sore neck. 

 

“But we’re  _ done _ !” she exclaimed with a joyous laugh you couldn’t share.

 

“Not really though, when you think about it,” you said, darker than you had intended. “From here on out it’s the thing, you know. It’s not going to be a walk in the park.”

 

“You don’t have to tell  _ me _ that, alright? I’ve been waiting for this my whole life!”

 

“ _ Whole _ life?”

 

“Ok, the vast majority of it,” she laughed before poking the medal on your chest, eyes sparkling. “You deserve that medal you know. You worked harder than a lot of us.”

 

“Hm?” you turned with a brow raised at the compliment, not sure how to receive it. Jesse’s face flashed through your mind.

 

_ She works hard _ .

 

_ Not as hard as you, though. _

 

“...thank you, Marcey,” you said, offering her a genuine if not tired smile. “...you deserved yours too.”

 

“Damn straight I do,” her hands went to her hips, chest puffed out. “Nothin’ getting in  _ my _ way of my dreams.”

 

You laughed--a real laugh as she flicked her medal proudly. You nodded a few times before looking back to her. “Way to have confidence, Marcey--” you stopped as your eyes caught sight of both Jesse and Reyes walking toward you. You nodded towards them, making Marcey turn around only to snap her heels together and salute.

 

“Sir!” she said, almost as if panicked. You heard Jesse chuckle under his breath at the sight, and you couldn’t help but smile too.

 

“Stand down,” Reyes said dismissively. You saw Marcey deflate just a little as she obeyed. Reyes looked to you, eyes flickering to your medal which you almost went to hide from view. He smirked, nodding at you both.

 

“Both of you report to me tonight at 2100. You’ll be sleeping at the main headquarters tonight. Questions?”

 

“Do we get separate beds?” you asked, giving him a sarcastic smile that made his eyes narrow.

 

“...yes,” he answered flatly. You almost laughed--Jesse did. “...if you’re late, you’re left behind. Remember that.”

 

He took his leave then, though Jesse stayed behind with a sparkle in his eye you recognized all too well.

 

“So,” he said, casually hooking his thumb over his belt. “You ladies want to join me fer a drink? There’s a bar not too far from here with passable whiskey.”

 

Marcey choked beside you, her face turning a few shades of red.

 

“I-Is that allowed?” she asked, looking back to you. “Like, isn’t that against regulations?”

 

“Not at all,” Jesse replied smoothly, smirking at her reaction. So pure. “We’re more or less equals now, after all. We’ll be workin’ together, and I don’t work well with anyone I haven’t shared a drink with.”

 

“I-I’d be honored!” Marcey exclaimed, looking back to you with stars in her eyes. “Come on, B! I haven’t had a drink in  _ ages _ !”

 

You had been quiet since the offer, giving Jesse a hard stare that made him raise a hand. “Jus’ drinks,” he said, as if to quell your suspicions. “Honest.”

 

Marcey looked between the two of you, eyebrows furrowed. You let out a heavy sigh, giving a shrug. 

 

“Alright, alright...just be prepared to carry two drunk-ass girls home. Tolerance goes down quick, y’know.”

 

“Would be my  _ pleasure _ ,” his crooked grin and insinuation made your cheeks redden just a bit--far less than Marcey’s red face. 

 

“W-wait,” Marcey suddenly looked sheepish, and for some reason your guard  _ immediately _ went up and-- “I-is the Commander coming?”

 

_ Fuck. Way to ruin a good time, Marcey. _ You winced visibly and even Jesse’s grin faltered. He scratched his beard thoughtfully, caught off guard. 

 

“Well, guess we could uh, try’an invite him…” he said, trailing off. He shot you a look that you replied to with a shrug. You didn’t really know what to say, and when Jesse saw the look of admiration in Marcey’s eyes it looked like he couldn’t say no.

 

“...I’ll go get’im.”

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

In the end Reyes, unsurprisingly, did not attend with you. It was a relief, if anything, though Marcey looked depressed over it. You did your best to comfort her by sliding a shot her way once you were all seated at the bar.

 

“Cheer up, Marcey,” you said, offering her a wink. You felt like you had just adopted some of Jesse’s habits, but it made her smile all the same.

 

“Right, right. Was a long shot, anyway,” she said, raising her glass before downing it. Jesse was to your left, already three shots down with no sign of stopping as he watched the two of you with a grin. The atmosphere was pleasantly relaxed with the other patrons sitting a few seats away or at tables closer to the jukebox. 

 

Which was, of course, blasting country. In fact, the whole place had a western vibe and you shouldn’t have been surprised by it, with Jesse being the one to suggest it and all. But it didn’t matter--you were there to, quite frankly, get hammered and country music would do just fine.

 

“Lucky man,” you heard the bartender say to Jesse, eyeing you both. “Never could convince  _ two _ pretty ladies to accompany me,” he gave you a grin and you couldn’t help but laugh a little as Jesse leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eye.

 

“The trick’s in the  _ hat _ ,” he said, lifting it from his head for a moment. Everyone broke out laughing at that and the bartender slid you each a new drink.

 

“Oh man,” Marcey said, swirling her drink a couple of times. “I haven’t...my tolerance is so  _ low _ . That first shot’s already hitting me,” she sat there a moment before downing her second, and you followed right behind her. 

 

“It’s ok, we have a  _ gentleman _ escorting us tonight,” you said, nudging Jesse’s arm. He smiled.

 

“Don’t know about all  _ that _ ,” he said, and the look he gave you made your cheeks redden.

 

You blamed the alcohol.

 

You all shared a few more shots before you were officially tipsy--Marcey was pretty much just drunk and Jesse? Jesse’s ears were tinged red again, but he didn’t so much as sway as he stood up, holding a hand out.

 

“This song,” he said, tilting his head towards the jukebox. “Is good for dacin’ with a partner.”

 

“Is that an offer?” You asked, grinning. You heard Marcey give a small cheer from where she  had her head down on the counter. 

 

“Only if yer’ thinkin’ about acceptin’ it,” Jesse replied smoothly, making you giggle.

 

You  _ giggled _ .

 

“Alright, cowboy, I’ll dance,” you pushed your glass towards the bartender before standing up, stumbling only a little as you took his hand in yours. You hadn’t danced in a long time, but the alcohol made you sure you could do it as he lead you to the small dance floor near the jukebox.

 

You looked down at his hand as he placed it on your hip, and you heard him immediately remind you “ _ It’s a partner dance _ ” before you could question it. You shrugged, letting one hand rest on his shoulder while the other was gently held in his good hand. 

 

And then you started. He lead you through the steps and despite the buzz of alcohol humming in your head, you managed to follow him step-for-step. As the two of you moved as one you couldn’t help but start grinning--especially when he took his hand off your hip to give you a little twirl.

 

“Not bad, darlin’,” he said, hand back to your hip. You gave a small laugh, a blush creeping across your face that you  _ knew _ wasn’t just alcohol.

 

“Right back at you, cowboy,” you said, letting him lead you through the rest of the song. It was nice, with the way he slowed when you stumbled and twirled you just to make you laugh. You heard Marcey give a cheer once in awhile, though it always tapered off with a drunken groan that made you roll your eyes.

 

You were just  _ really _ starting to enjoy yourself when Jesse stopped, his hand tightening against yours by a fraction. You made a noise of disapproval, only to look up and see Jesse with an uncharacteristic frown as he stared ahead of you.

 

You turned and your hand tightened around his as well at the sight of three men circling around Marcey. Something akin to a growl escaped Jesse’s throat as your hands separated.

 

“Wait here,” he said, making his way to the trouble that was brewing. You scowled at that, immediately thinking  _ she’s my friend, asshole. _

 

So you followed behind Jesse, fists balled up. He had a surprisingly calm countenance to him, if you didn’t know what to look for. But you could see how he was just a tad more tense than usual--a tad more  _ formal _ .

 

“Yer gonna want t’back up there, boys,” he said, thumb hooking around his belt. The other three turned, and by the red on their cheeks and the glaze over their eyes you knew they were  _ hammered _ . The tallest one barked out a laugh, slinging his arm around Marcey’s shoulders. When she tried to knock him off he held on tighter, a sleazy grin over his face.

 

“We’re ju-just showin’ her how to have a... _ good time _ . Aren’t we?” he looked to his friends who nodded in unison, their grins just as sleazy.

 

“F-fuck off,” Marcey stammered. You knew in any other circumstance she’d have them on the floor bleeding--but while just as hammered as her harassers? Unlikely, with the way she couldn’t even shove his arm off.

 

“Sounds like she ain’t exactly interested,” Jesse replied coldly, taking a step forward. Only one of them reacted by stepping back--the rest were too drunk to take the hint.

 

“She  _ will _ be,” he slurred, leaning over to kiss her neck.

 

His lips never made it. Your fist had launched out too quickly for either him or Jesse to stop, landing straight on his jaw. He fell out of the barstool he had been sitting on, crashing to the floor with all the grace of a drunk giraffe. 

 

“She’s  _ not interested, _ ” you hissed, you temper flaring. Marcey’s mouth had dropped into a small “o” while she scrambled to get out of the way, hiding behind you and Jesse. 

 

“You hit like a  _ dyke _ , bitch,” the one you knocked to the ground said, helped up by his friends. Once standing he rubbed his jaw and spit on the floor--his saliva was tinged with red. 

 

“Hey, no fighting in the bar--” you heard the bartender try to stop the both of you, Jesse muttering an apology with a tip of his hat only to sigh when you tried going for the leader again.

 

“Put---me--- _ down, Jesse! _ ” you snarled as he held you back from the waist. 

 

“We’re not here to cause trouble, ____,” he said, narrowly dodging your elbow aimed at his face. “Just calm-- _ shit _ .”

 

You felt your body get jerked sideways as one of the friends lunged for you, and you went completely still as you heard knuckles against flesh from above. You looked up, the man’s fist still against Jesse’s cheek.

 

His cigar fell from his mouth. 

 

“How’d you like  _ that _ ?” the man boasted, only to let out a small yelp as Jesse’s metal hand left you and grasped the other’s wrist.

 

“Not one bit, actually,” Jesse’s voice was dark now-- _ dangerous _ . “Now, I’ll let ya’ll think about the situation a moment before I start retaliatin’,” you heard an unpleasant crack from the man’s wrist, and he began to fall to his knees shouting. “I suggest ya’ think  _ real hard _ .”

 

You finally saw reason seep into their glazed-over eyes, the one you punched looked to his friend on the floor with a cracked wrist. He wiped his nose, backing up. 

 

“Damn, alright, fine, we’re done here,” he said motioning for the others to follow him. It took Jesse a moment to unfurl his metal fingers from the other’s wrist, watching him instantly cradle it.

 

“Good decision,” Jesse said, jabbing his thumb towards the door. “Now I suggest you  _ get out _ of this here fine establishment before brewin’ more trouble.”

 

You stuck your tongue out and lifted your middle finger as the trio started to scramble for the door, though they each threw you a dark look as they did. As the door began to swing shut a boot wedged itself in between it and the doorway, and when it opened you couldn’t help but let out a small gasp.

 

“ _ Commander, _ ” you said, letting out a small laugh. His timing was impeccable, and when he returned his attention from the fleeing men outside to you, he raised an eyebrow and began walking over.

 

“Looks like I missed half the excitement,” he said, glancing to Jesse who offered a smile and a shrug. 

 

“Wasn’t too excitin’. Just a bunch of rowdy boys who don’t know when t’quit,” he said, tilting his head back to the bar. “You up for a drink? That is, unless we’re no longer welcome…” he looked to the bartender who, with a heavy sigh, shook his head.

 

“You’re all fine by my book, just don’t go causin’ more trouble.”

 

“Thank you kindly,” Jesse tilted his hat, and you hopped back onto your barstool to check up on Marcey.

 

She was red and trying to avoid looking at Reyes--probably ashamed how shitfaced she was, you figured. You leaned over and whispered “ _ Maybe YOU can get a dance in now, eh?” _ That earned you a punch to the shoulder that would probably leave a bruise as she sipped on her drink. 

 

“I suppose I could have a drink or two,” you heard Reyes say after a moment of thought. His acceptance surprised you--his  _ presence _ surprised you and you watched in disbelief as the bartender slid him a shot and he downed it like it was no problem. He took his seat beside you and Jesse moved to sit beside Marcey. You wondered if it was a sort of protective gesture, after the night’s events.

 

“That’s more like it,” you said, grinning up at your Commander unapologetically. “I heard once you can’t trust a person you haven’t had a drink with.”

 

“Hm?” Reyes looked you over, his eyes slowly sliding towards where Jesse sat, looking as innocent as possible. “...wonder who that could have been.”

 

“No clue, but I think you should have another,” you slid your own glass towards him and for the first time since meeting the stoic and grumpy Gabriel Reyes, you saw him smile.

 

“Guess I can’t argue with that.”

 

The night went on until you couldn’t remember the rest of it. But you did remember stumbling beside Reyes, an arm slung over his shoulders as you headed for the car, Marcey carried beside you by Jesse.

 

It was a good night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I didn't update yesterday--I'm kinda sick with SOMETHING and it was just really hard to get this chapter out. It's a bit longer than usual though so there's that!
> 
> Also omg so many comments I'm just hoarding them all crying over here don't mind me. Looks like most of you want McCree but we got some strong votes for Reyes--GUESS WE'LL HAVE TO SEE WHERE IT GOES. But for now, have some flirtin' with the cowboy.
> 
> Seriously thank you for the support even if I don't respond to all your comments like they make my day every time a new one rolls in ;A; Officially hit over 1k views and 100 kudos too! MILESTONE ACHIEVED.


	9. Ride it Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (TRIGGER WARNINGS: DRUG USE)
> 
> Her apology was ignored by Reyes in favor of flipping through some papers. After a few moments of page-flipping he dropped two packets down on his desk, one towards each of you. “Your assignments,” he said, sitting back in his chair. He propped his elbows up on the desk, staring you both down. “Allens, you’ll be assigned to a squad with a senior sniper. They will debrief you on their current mission and tell you where to go.”
> 
> Marcey nodded, giving Reyes a quick salute. You looked down at your files, lazily flipping through them before glancing back up to Reyes. “...a club? I’m going clubbing for my first assignment?”
> 
> You heard Marcey giggle from beside you, earning an immediate glare from Reyes. He pointed to Marcey, then to the door. “You can report in now, Allens.”

Small. That’s the first thing you noticed about your room when you finally came-to, slowly sitting up in bed while nursing a headache. It was small, it was clean, and it was _yours_.

 

    “No more of Marcey’s snoring, at least,” you murmured quietly, forcing yourself to keep upright as you continued familiarizing yourself with the room. There was a closet off to one side with a sleek dresser beneath clothes you recognized as _yours._ From _before_ you were caught. You couldn’t help but smile, the thought of them holding onto your wardrobe laughable.

 

    Especially when most of it was stolen or bought with illegal money.

 

    The rest of the room was mostly bare, save for the TV mounted on the wall, a bathroom to the right and a bedside table that held a lamp, a small glass of water and two pills with a note that said “for your hangover”.

 

    You wondered who wrote it--the lines were thick and dark but had just enough style that it could easily have been Jesse OR Reyes. It definitely wasn’t Marcey, that was for sure.

 

    Either way you whispered a “Oh god yes thank you” as you downed the pills quickly, flopping back onto your bed to wait out the worst of your hangover. At least you weren’t vomiting all over the place, though you _were_ still in your boot camp uniform which smelled of alcohol and sweat.

 

    You needed a shower.

 

    You got yourself back up, walking to your closet to find a decent pair of clothes. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to dress casually or in uniform; It wasn’t like Jesse had been walking around under some dress code. You decided to be safe instead of sorry, picking out a full-black uniform that you brought with you to the bathroom.

 

    As you started the shower and began to strip you caught a glance of yourself in the bathroom mirror. You froze, blinking a few times as you leaned forward, hardly able to recognize yourself.

 

    Your skin had gotten a few shades darker from all the time you spent under the sun, and as you ran your hands down your sides you couldn’t help but admire all the muscle you had built up over twenty weeks of training. You had _abs_ now, and while you weren’t necessarily _bulky_ you were definitely fit as all hell and that made you feel like a _badass_.

 

    “Damn straight I could knock a man onto his ass,” you said, grinning at yourself before finally jumping into the shower. The water felt amazing after all the weeks of quick and cold showers where you had to scrub yourself raw as quickly as possible before it was someone else’s turn. Now you could take your time, enjoying the warmth of the water as it fell over you and the smell of soap in your hands.

 

    It was like you had just graduated to heaven.

 

    You were forced to get out when there was a knock on your door, groaning as you stopped the water and stepped into the cold. There was a bathrobe nearby you tossed on, slicking your hair back as you made your way for the door.

 

    You looked through the eyehole first, smiling when you saw Marcey standing there impatiently. She, too, was dressed in all-black, so you figured you must have made the right choice. You unlocked your door and opened it, leaning against the doorframe.

 

    “Surprised you’re up this early,” you said cheekily, grinning. “Figured you’d be praying to the porcelain gods.”

 

    “Oh shut up,” she said, rolling her eyes as she pushed past you into the room. She took a moment to look around before huffing, crossing her arms. “I can’t believe this,” she said, shooting you a small glare. “They gave you the _bigger_ room.”

 

    “Ouch. If this is big to you, I can’t wait to see _your_ digs,” you said, closing the door behind you. Marcey flopped onto your still-unmade bed, fiddling with her thumbs as she looked to your ceiling. You took the time to head back into the bathroom to start getting dressed.

 

    “...we get our first assignments today,” she called out to you right as you slipped on your pants. You bit your lip at that, suddenly aware as to why Marcey seemed so nervous. The thought of actually _doing_ something with your training made your gut feel heavy as you slipped on your shirt and walked back into the room, rubbing your towel against your hair.

 

    “That was quick,” you said, tossing the towel off to the side to be cleaned later. “...any clue what yours might be?”

 

    “Ah, well, I think they plan to assign me to a squad as an apprentice sniper,” she said with a small blush, scratching at her cheek. “I apparently had one of the best scores in rifle, and one of their snipers plans to retire soon….”

 

    “When did you learn all _that_?” you asked incredulously, hands to your hips. “I doubt you could have learned all that between being shitfaced and waking up here.”

 

    “Oh, well, uhm…” her faced turned red as she sat up, laughing a little. “I uh...I ran into Jesse on the way here. I thought he had talked to you too, since he was coming from your room…”

 

    Ah. The pills were from Jesse, then.

 

    “Well...I’ll probably be put undercover, if I remember right…” you trailed off, gut twisting. Marcey’s eyes lit up, however, and she gave you an excited grin.

 

    “You’re going to be an _agent?_ Like, in the spy movies and stuff?” she asked, making you wince. Her blind optimism was sometimes misplaced.

 

    “Yeah, just like the movies,” you said flatly, looking out the window that was set above your bed. You couldn’t see any buildings, only sky. “...it’s not like it’ll be _new_ to me, but I’m still pretty nervous about it.”

 

    “Well, yeah, agents are typically out there alone, right?”

 

    “Are you trying to help, Marcey?”

 

    She laughed before giving you an apologetic look, shrugging. “Sorry. But still--a spy…” she looked into the distance dreamily, nodding a few times in approval towards whatever she was imagining. When she didn’t continue you rolled your eyes, going back to the bathroom to look for a brush.

 

    “Let me finish my hair and we can get going.”

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

    You both reported to Reyes’ office as soon as you finished getting ready. Marcey had done her research and knew exactly where it was, by ‘chance’, which was the worst cover-up you had ever heard.

 

    When you arrived at his door Marcey reached up to timidly give it a knock. When no one answered she whispered “you don’t think we’re too _early_ , do you?”

 

    Before you could answer you heard Reyes’ voice boom from the other side, making both of you jump. “Learn to knock like you mean it,” he shouted, making Marcey turn red. You couldn’t help but snicker, honestly, as the two of you entered his office.

 

    “Sorry sir,” Marcey muttered apologetically, giving him a small wave. “Won’t happen again.”

 

    Her apology was ignored by Reyes in favor of flipping through some papers. After a few moments of page-flipping he dropped two packets down on his desk, one towards each of you. “Your assignments,” he said, sitting back in his chair. He propped his elbows up on the desk, staring you both down. “Allens, you’ll be assigned to a squad with a senior sniper. They will debrief you on their current mission and tell you where to go.”

 

    Marcey nodded, giving Reyes a quick salute. You looked down at your files, lazily flipping through them before glancing back up to Reyes. “...a club? I’m going _clubbing_ for my first assignment?”

 

    You heard Marcey giggle from beside you, earning an immediate glare from Reyes. He pointed to Marcey, then to the door. “You can report in _now_ , Allens.”

 

    She straightened, looking hurt. But she nodded, looking at you one last time before leaving the office, the door closing quietly behind her.

 

    “Now, ” Reyes resumed, tapping your papers pointedly. “ _Hora del Diablo_ is the club’s name _._ Means the Devil’s Hour,” His spanish was fluid as he withdrew his hand, allowing you to continue scanning the paperwork. “It’s a breeding ground for low-tier criminals. Or it was, until a man named Luciano Azarola started his operations there.”

 

    “What kind of operations?” You asked, continuing to search the papers until a man appeared amongst them. He had the same complexion as Reyes, only a tad bit darker with black hair he had pulled back tight into a ponytail. He wore sunglasses and had some sort of intricate tattoo around his neck, hardly covered by his opened polo-shirt.

 

    “Drug operation,” Reyes replied, his voice colder than you anticipated. You ripped your eyes from the photos to raise an eyebrow, tapping your fingers rhythmically against his desk.

 

    “Seems a little _small_ for Blackwatch involvement,” you said, crossing your arms. “What’s the catch here?”

 

    “The drug they’re selling is called Cocanium, and it contains highly confidential, addictive substances previously used in the Soldier Enhancement Program,” your jaw set. The program, often referred to as SEP, was widely acknowledged by the world yet remained secretive in its methods. You knew the posterboy for Overwatch had been a result of SEP, but you hadn’t done much more research past what you saw blasted on the news.

 

    “...were you in the program?” you asked, suddenly curious. Reyes stayed quiet a moment before offering a curt nod, eyes trained on you.

 

    “I was,” he said, voice clipped. It was a clear warning to stop pushing your luck, and for once you obeyed as you looked back down to the desk thoughtfully.

 

    “So...what? I go in as a buyer, try to get my hands on the stuff and get out?”

 

    “That’s exactly what you’ll be doing. Do _not_ take the drug if offered, do _not_ pursue the suspects,”  his words were stern and left no room for argument, making you frown and bite your lip in thought.

 

    “Boring,” you muttered quietly, earning a glower. You rolled your eyes at his glare, unfazed. “Fine, fine. Get in, get out. Got it.”

 

    “Good,” Reyes nodded, standing. “Now go get changed. I suggest you dress up.”

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

    Hours later you found yourself standing outside of Hora del Diablo, dropped off by Jesse who offered you a reassuring smile and wave.

 

    “ _Just a recap--you’re a buyer interested in investing in a long-term partnership, but this should be the last time you make contact with Luciano’s men,” he said as he turned a corner, looking at you through the rearview mirror. “Don’t take the drugs, don’t dig deeper than you have to.”_

 

You frowned at the memory, holding your arms across your waist as you began to walk for the front door. You were dressed like any club-goer, really, with a tight top and loose skirt, leggings added underneath so your movement wasn’t hindered.

 

    Ah, and there was a gun strapped to your thigh that your hand kept brushing against as you walked, reminding you this was a dangerous situation that could very well go wrong.

 

    “Not that it will,” you whispered to yourself, hand on the door handle. “Not an amatuer…”

 

    “Say somethin’, darlin’?” you heard from the small transmitter in your ear, making your heart skip a beat. You had forgotten, for a moment, that the transmitter was there at all, and after giving it a moment of thought you realized you felt much safer with Jesse humming in your ear than without.

 

    “Nothin’,” you said before taking a deep breath, pushing the door open. “Don’t worry.”

 

    The club’s insides were about what you’d expect from a place dubbed _The Devil’s Hour_ , painted in hues of red with black all around. The lights were dim and the air was hazy with the smoke of cigarettes and Mary-Jane. You choked at the aroma before regaining your composure, striding in as though you owned the place.

 

    “Alright, Luciano is probably in one of the backrooms,” Jesse continued, his voice tinged with just a hint of static. “Ask the bartender for backroom deals as _discreetly_ as possible and mention that you’re Janice Coburn.”

 

    You snorted at that, still unable to believe they were making you use the name they caught you under all those months before. It was a good name though--you had liked it, at least.

 

    Sliding your way into one of the barstools you rested your chin on the palm of your hand, looking at the bartender as he filled in someone’s order. He was bulky with a closely shaven head, some stubble on his chin the only hair you could see. He was laughing with the customers while filling their glasses.

 

    He looked personable. You wondered how much was just acting.

 

    “And what can I get you, gorgeous?” he said as he came by, giving a flirty smile that you returned with ease, biting your lip to look coy. “Don’t think I’ve seen your pretty face around here before.”

 

    “Oh, I’ve been here a few times…” you said, batting your eyelashes. The lies came just as easy as they had before boot camp, sweet and full of empty sincerity. “I’ve just never really made myself known...I’m a bit of a wallflower, honestly,” you looked up into his eyes and knew you had him played as he put a glass he was cleaning down on the counter.

 

    “Well that’s a shame,” he said, smiling wide enough that you could see he was missing a tooth. “What can I get ya to celebrate comin’ out of your pretty little shell?”

 

    “Well, about that,” you began to trace shapes into the wood with the tip of your nail, looking as timid as possible. “I was supposed to...get a backroom deal, you know?” you whispered the last part, eyes flicking from your nails to his eyes. You saw his eyes darken by a fraction as he nodded, looking down the bar towards the other customers.

 

    “You mind giving me a name, sweetheart?” he replied under his breath as well, leaning forward just enough to come off as a threat. The jovial man you had seen moments ago was gone, and the _quality_ of his acting had you smiling just a little wider.

 

    “Janice Coburn,” you replied, the fake name rolling off your tongue. He stared at you a moment before nodding, straightening up.

 

    “This way,” he said, motioning for you to follow as he exited his bar area and lead you to a door on the far side of the club. He took out a jumble of keys, flipping through them until he found a bright silver key with a square top. He unlocked the door, ushering you inside.

 

    “Mr. Azarola is in the back. Mind yourself, girlie,” you stepped into a dark-lit hall, looking back to the bartender with a sweet smile and nod.

 

    “Always do, mister,” you said before making your way down the hall. The sound of the door closing and locking behind you made your stomach flip, but you kept walking until the hallway opened into a large, circular room.

 

    There were a couple of steps to go down, making the room itself a few feet down into the ground. Black, circular couches traced the outer edges of the room, the floor covered in a blood-red carpet.

 

    And of course the air here was also filled with smoke that agitated your lungs as you began to make your way down the stairs, doing your best to look unfazed by aroma of cigarettes and weed. It was much stronger in this room than it had been out on the main floor.

 

    “You can stop right there,” you froze at the command, eyes flickering over to the group of people sitting on the couch, a table between you. There were a few men off to the sides closer to you--bodyguards, you presumed--while Luciano himself sat with his arms around two girls on either side. You couldn’t see his eyes past his sunglasses, but you could feel them looking you over carefully.

 

    “...my name is Janice Coburn,” you introduced yourself again, glancing to the bodyguards at your left and right.

 

    “Janice….Janice…” Luciano dragged your name out, slowly tilting his glasses downwards. You pursed your lips, the delay shooting your nerves.

 

    “Oh, right right,” he finally said, letting out a sudden laugh that made you jump. He untangled himself from his women, leaning towards the table where large packages  were strewn about. “Damn, I totally forgot about you. Well, get your ass over here so we can get this done.”

 

    Before you could ask _where_ he wanted you to sit he had started shoving one of the girls away, quickly speaking in spanish until she finally moved to the side with a scowl. Luciano motioned for you to take a seat, which you did after carefully walking around the center table.

 

    “How much you buyin?” he asked, picking up one of the packages.

 

    You immediately felt static in your ear as Jesse tuned in, clearing his voice over the mic. “Eighth a gram,” he answered for you. “Call it an’ eightball.”

 

    “Eightball,” you repeated as Luciano looked back up to you.

 

    “Just an eighth, huh?” he said, frowning. The edge to his voice called for a small smile on your end.

 

    “It’s been a while,” you said with an innocent shrug. “Besides, I heard this stuff really packs a punch…”

 

    “You heard right,” you could see pride in how his back straightened, and noted that for later. “You’ve never had a high like Cocanium.”

 

    _No I haven’t,_ you thought, watching him crack open a package.

 

    “Unfortunately, our smallest sale is for a fourth,” you frowned as he held up another package from inside the first--a see-through one where you could see the white crystals glitter from within.

 

    “How much?” You asked, praying Reyes had given you enough. You tried not to look too nervous as Luciano tilted his head, looking you over for the second time.

 

    “Six hundred,” he said, dangling the drugs near you with his other hand held out expectantly. “Don’t even try to barter with me.”

 

    “Wouldn’t dream it,” you replied, letting out a breath when you realized you barely had enough. You reached into your purse to get your wallet, forking over the cash. You felt the drugs replace the money in your hand, fingers curling around with a sense of pride.

 

    _Mission accomplished_.

 

    You stood up to leave when you felt a hand catch your wrist, forcing you back down. You almost turned to yell at him, but managed to bite your tongue just in time as you looked to Luciano with apparent annoyance.

 

    “We have a rule here, _Lola_ ,” Luciano said with a smile, leaning into the couch. His hand never left your wrist, however, and even began to tighten as he went on. “You have to sample the product before you can leave. It’s to make sure you’re not an... _undesirable_.”

 

    “...that’s smart,” you said, genuinely impressed. A flash of pride reappeared on his face as he reached into his pocket, producing a straw.

 

    “You don’t even have to use _your_ stash,” he said, nodding to one of the bodyguards. They stood, walking over to rip open one of the packages, sprinkling it in a row onto the desk. It was a glass desk, one you could see your reflection in as you stared down at the line of Cocanium in front of you.

 

    “ _Don’t do it,_ ” Jesse’s panicked voice came over the transmitter, making you sigh.

 

    “...out of morbid curiosity,” you started slowly, fingers digging beneath your nails. “If I said no…?”

 

    You weren’t surprised by the sound of a gun cocking behind you, nor by the pressure of its barrel pressed against your head. You hummed, staying as still as possible.

 

    “That seems about right. Gun to the head,” you said it outloud more for Jesse than yourself, hearing him cuss in your ear. “Not like I actually planned on saying no to something I forked out six-hundred for, mind you.”

 

    “I’m sure that’s the case,” Luciano said, flipping the straw between his fingers. “Now go for it, Lola.”

 

    You took the straw, sniffling once in preparation as you leaned over the table. You didn’t have experience with this--not _personal_ experience, and so you clumsily aimed the straw for a nostril before taking a shaky breath.

 

    “Fuck me up,” you muttered before snorting the line, leaning back to wipe your now-stinging nose. You heard Luciano give a cheer and clap from behind you, the bodyguard to your side re-holstering his gun.

 

    “ _Talk to me, _____,”_ you heard Jesse plead, but you couldn’t reply as you blinked rapidly, the drug already starting to hit you. “ _______, get out of there._ ”

 

    “Oh fuck,” you coughed, _feeling_ your pupils dilate. You heard more laughter from around you, but it all seemed to slow down around you...or maybe it sped up? You couldn’t tell, but a laugh escaped your lips as you started to lose yourself, you body tingling in ways you couldn’t describe.

 

    “... _how cute…total...rookie..._ ” you heard someone say as your hands went to your face--it had gone numb, a dark blush on your cheeks. You were breathing heavy and your fingers itched-- _itched_.

 

    “Ride it out, Lola,” you jumped as you felt Luciano’s breath hit your ear, an arm wrapping around your shoulder.

 

    You couldn’t reply as everything kept shifting around you, time going from unbearably slow and muffled to suddenly very _bright,_ very _active_ and very _noisy_.

 

    “Shit, I got...I got to get somewhere,” you muttered into Luciano’s shoulder, trying to push away. His hold tightened on you almost painfully, making you wince.

 

    “Why in such a rush?” he said with a grin, leaning in. “We got all day, Lola. The entire day.”

 

    “N...no I really--I really got to get back home,” you insisted, trying to keep everything straight. Jesse was yelling in your ear and Luciano’s face was looming over you, his fingers digging into your skin. You closed your eyes, only to open them in time to dodge Luciano, twisting out of his grip. You stumbled up to your feet, picking up your package as you did. You nearly fell over but caught yourself just in time.

 

    “My driver’s outside,” you said, unable to tell if you were speaking fast or slow. “I didn’t plan to...be here much longer--” you inhaled, catching sight of their fingers twitching by where you presumed their guns were hidden. You held up your hands, giving Luciano the widest grin you could muster.

 

    “Next time though,” you said, biting your lip. You felt it bleed inside your mouth. “I think I’d like to get to know you better.”

 

    Everyone around you relaxed, though you couldn’t. Your mind was on fire, your hands were shaking.

 

    “Alright, Coburn,” you heard Luciano say as he leaned back into his couch, motioning for the previous girl to get back into place. “I’ll see you when you’ve got the need again, yeah?”

 

    “Yeah,” you breathed, finally turning to go. You offered a short wave before nearly darting down the hall. You cursed as you remember the door being locked, banging on it loudly until the bartender reappeared, opening the door with an annoyed look.

 

    “Hey, calm down--”

 

    “Do you _know_ how to calm down on this shit?” you snapped back, surprising both of you. “Now I’d like to g-get _home_ so I can ride this out in _peace_.”

 

    “A...alright, then,” he said, watching you stumble your way through the new crowd that had just come in.

 

    “ _I’m outside_ ,” Jesse said grimly as you stumbled into the night, shivering when a breeze brushed past you. “ _Down to the left._ ”

 

    You turned, doing your best to tune everything out as you made your way to his car, gasping for air. He was already there waiting for you, opening the door so you could fall into the backseat, curling up as you hit the leather.

 

    “_____?” he asked, watching you tremble there with your hands over your ears.You felt overwhelmed, and it was _terrifying_.

 

    “Get me _home_ ,” you hissed. You felt the tears in your eyes begin to fall, dripping down your cheeks. Your nose was running, too, though a quick check proved it was blood and not snot.

 

    “ _Please_ ,” you pleaded a second time. A sob escaped your lips as you tried desperately to stop the bleeding. You heard the backseat close and then Jesse sitting down in the driver’s seat, the sound of the engine revving following shortly thereafter.

 

    “Hang in there, _____,” you heard him say through grit teeth.

 

    The words danced in your ears, and you couldn’t figure out if he was still talking.

 

    You choked again, closing your eyes.

  
    _Just ride it out, Lola._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was hard to write and I'm still sick so that didn't help lol. Anyway, Reyes is now in the lead because as SOON as I was like "McCree is winning" ya'll Reaper fans rose from the grave like "bITCH NO HE AIN'T"
> 
> Meanwhile we got u thirsty mofos asking for both. Don't think I don't seE YOU THERE YOU SINNERS.
> 
> Also yeah this was cliche but I hope it wasn't like, sickeningly so. I honestly just ripped Lola out of Vargas' dialogue from ME because I'm unapologetic like that. 
> 
> PS Reyes is like the late bioware lover you gotta hold out for. The Zevran to your Alistair, the Garrus to your Liara, etc. But we'll get there. Oh we'll get there ;D


	10. Make a Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When ya’ start talkin’ like that, I get more worried,” you rolled your eyes, hanging your towel around your shoulders.
> 
> “Look, Jesse, I’m not going to get addicted,” you said, looking him straight in the eye. “I’ll be careful. Promise. Besides,” you gave him a wide grin and mimicked the wink he gave you so often. “I got you to look after me.”
> 
> He finally cracked a smile at that, placing his hat back atop his head with a nod. “That you do,” he said. “That you do.”

 

When you came into the nursebay in Jesse’s arms you were still in hysterics. But fifteen minutes later you were unable to stop walking circles around the room, dodging the nurse’s attempts to get you back in bed.

  
  


“ I'm  _ fine _ !” you exclaimed, dodging left as the nurse jumped for you. Jesse stood at the door with a thin frown, watching you dance around the tile with uncharacteristic agility. “Just let me out of here--I’m  _ perfectly fine _ \--”

  
  


“You have been exposed to highly addictive, unrecognized drugs, ma’am!” the nurse shouted in exasperation, breathing just a tad bit harder than usual. “ _Please_ sit down so we can run some tests--”

  
  


“You don’t _have_ to run tests, I’m--” before you could repeat the word “fine” you felt arms wrap around you from behind, catching you off guard. You stood still then, mind whirling as you tried to figure out who was holding you.

  
  


“Please, jus’ get back in the bed,” you heard Jesse whisper in your ear, making you shiver from the closeness. You frowned, making an agitated noise before nodding reluctantly. 

  
  


“Yeah yeah, fine,” you said, waiting for him to release you. He did so after a few more seconds, hands lingering on your shoulders for just a moment before he stepped back. You glanced at him over your shoulder before you felt the nurse grab your wrist, leading you back to the bed with look of relief.

  
  


“W-we’ll need to do bloodwork and...and maybe some tests on the treadmill, after that….” the nurse went on about a series of tests that had to be ran while you absently rubbed your shoulder where Jesse’s hand had been.

  
  


That’s when the door burst open, slamming against the walls as Commander Reyes strolled in, his scowl harder than usual. His eyes immediately landed on you and when you returned a small wave he snorted, pinching the bridge of his nose as though the mere sight of you were cause for a headache.

  
  


“ _ Barrett _ ,” he said, his temper hardly hidden behind his attempts to contain it. “I gave you  _ strict orders _ \--”

  
  


“They had a gun to her head, sir,” Jesse interrupted with a frown. “There ain’t much a person can do in that situation.”

  
  


You watched as the two men’s eyes met, a silent war raging between them that you could only guess the depth of. Reyes straightened up, continuing to walk towards your bed. You gulped and sat up straighter, eyeing him cautiously.

  
  


“...have the withdrawals started?” you weren’t sure if he was asking _you_ or the nurse standing a few feet away. You glanced over to them for a moment only for Reyes to cough, bringing your attention back. “I’m asking _you_.”

  
  


“ Ah, well, no, then…I don’t...I don’t think so….sir,” you tacked on the sir, unsure what was exactly going on. You still felt great--better than you had for  _ years _ , in fact. “If I had to be honest, I’m feeling better than ever…”

  
  


“That’s the soldier drug,” Reyes replied, taking a deep breath. “Enhances your reflexes, stamina, hearing...everything. It’ll die down, however, and you’ll begin going through withdrawals within a few hours at most.”

  
  


“Wait, so what exactly am I going to be going through?” you asked, raising a brow. “Some cravings or something? Some shakes? What?”

  
  


“Don’t know,” Reyes shrugged, crossing his arms. “It’s _not the same drug_. It’s a hybrid. I doubt it’ll be as bad as SEP with one dose, but it’s not going to be _pleasant_ either way,” you winced and looked up to Reyes, noting the exhaustion in his eyes.

  
  


“...I’m taking you off the case,” your clenched your jaw as Reyes began to turn, immediately starting to crawl out of bed. The nurse rushed over but you brushed them away.

  
  


“You can’t do that,” you said, clenching your fists by your sides. 

  
  


“ I just did,” Reyes said without stopping. Still energized from the drug you dared to reach out, grabbing his wrist to stop him. He immediately halted, eyes drifting down to where your fingers wrapped around his wrist tightly. He narrowed his eyes, looking back up to you. “...I suggest you  _ let go _ .”

  
  


“Hey, missy, just let this one drop--” you heard Jesse from your side, but you ignored him and held your ground, shaking your head.

  
  


“Any other man you send in there will have to do the same thing,” you reasoned, grinding your teeth together as you stared down your superior. “...I’ve already been exposed, so keep me on the case.”

  
  


“ You’ll get  _ addicted _ , Barrett,” he replied darkly, though he didn’t pull away. “We don’t know the effects of this drug. We don’t know how to get you off of it safely. You could overdose,” you frowned, refusing to give in despite his logic. 

  
  


“ Same thing for anyone else who goes in,” you said stiffly. “I appreciate the  _ concern _ , but if you want to find out where they’re operating from then  _ let me stay on the case _ .”

  
  


The silence was palpable between the two of you. It didn’t matter that he was looming over you almost twice your size with a glower that would break most men--you had made up your mind, and you stuck to it until he finally grunted and shook his head.

  
  


“ You’ll stay on  _ for now _ ,” he said, jerking his wrist so it came out from your hand. You let him go, a smile blooming across your face. “You’ll regret it when the withdrawal hits, though,” with his last warning he turned and left, leaving you grinning to yourself at your victory.

  
You turned to face Jesse, faltering when you saw a look of disapproval on his face. You frowned, shrugging him off as you looked over to the nurse instead.

  
  


“You said something about treadmills,” you smiled. “I could _really_ go for some treadmill right now.”

  
  


\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

  
  


You ran further than your final run on the track in boot camp. Faster, too, with the energy you had to burn. You were laughing as you beat your record, ignoring the worried looks of both the nurse and Jesse as the treadmill came to a slow stop, letting you catch your breath. 

  
  


You felt elated. 

  
  


    “ Stop looking at me like that, I’m fine,” you snapped at Jesse as the nurse began to remove a series of stickers and wires from your chest. Jesse just sighed, looking absolutely exhausted as he took his hat off to run his hand through his hair.

  
  


    “ Yer doin’ fine fer  _ now _ ,” he said, holding his hat to his chest as he looked you over. You wiped some sweat from your brow, stepping off the treadmill with a little hop. “But anytime now that high’s gonna wear off, and yer gonna be in a world of trouble.”

  
  


    “ I can take it,” you said with a small huff. Your ego had grown with your stamina, it seemed, as you accepted a towel from the nurse to wipe the rest of yourself off. “People have lived through worse. I’m sure I can live through this--hell, the benefits might just outweigh the negatives.”

  
  


    “ When ya’ start talkin’ like  _ that _ , I get more worried,” you rolled your eyes, hanging your towel around your shoulders.

  
  


    “ Look, Jesse, I’m not going to get addicted,” you said, looking him straight in the eye. “I’ll be careful. Promise. Besides,” you gave him a wide grin and mimicked the wink he gave you so often. “I got you to look after me.”

  
  


He finally cracked a smile at that, placing his hat back atop his head with a nod. “That you do,” he said. “That you do.”

  
  


    “ Great, so now you can stop giving me looks like...like…”

  
  


You suddenly felt dizzy, and your face must have paled considerably because Jesse’s smile was gone in an instant as he took a step towards you, hands posed to help if you fell. You heard him call your name as you sniffed, reaching up to touch your upper lip only to find blood coating your fingers. 

  
  


    “ ...ah,” you muttered, rubbing the blood between your finger and thumb. You sniffed again, wiping the rest away as you looked up to Jesse with a faint smile. “Don’t worry, I’m...fine.”

  
  


    “ No, no yer not,” his words were gruff as you stumbled sideways. He caught you with his metal hand, its surface cool against your heated skin. He sighed, looking to the nurse.

  
  


    “ Get her some water or somethin’,” he commanded, making the nurse scurry off. You leaned against him, humming as your nose continued to bleed. 

  
  


    “ I’ll be fine, really,” you persisted as he led you back to the nurse’s bed. “I just...have a headache…”

  
  


    “ Just lay down an’  _ stop _ ,” he helped you climb into the bed, tugging the covers over you as the nurse came back with water and a towel. You accepted both gratefully, gulping down the water before holding the towel beneath your nose.

  
  


    “ See,” you said, trying to inject humor into the situation as you looked up to Jesse, grinning. “You’re here to look after me.”

  
  


    “ I shouldn’t have t’be,” he muttered with a shake of his head. 

  
  


    “ Don’t be like that,” you closed your eyes, getting as comfortable as your headache allowed. “You’ve always been there. This is no different.”

  
  


There was silence after that. Jesse either didn’t know what to say or simply had nothing to add, but you heard him pull up a chair from nearby, the chair legs screeching against the tiles. You heard him sit down near you and you smiled, pressing harder on your towel.

  
  


    “ This is gonna go badly, you know,” he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear.

  
  


In the back of your mind you replied ‘ _ I know _ ’ .

  
  


\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

  
  


You wouldn’t get another taste of Cocanium until a month later, as the package you had previously bought you last about that long. The withdrawal symptoms faded within a couple of days and you were back to your usual self, regular stamina and all. You made a point to say “See?  _ See? _ ”  every time the mission came up in conversation with either Jesse or Reyes (the latter always delivering a glare right afterwards). 

  
  


Overall, you thought it had all gone swimmingly, and when it was time to go in for a second round you were more than ready.

  
  


    “ Backroom deals,” you said smoothly to the bartender, a pleasant smile on your face. He nodded, recognizing you as he led you to the back once again. The door locked behind you as you made your way down to Luciano’s room, a slight spring to your step.

  
  


    “ Try an’ avoid takin’ more of that stuff, _____ ,” you heard Jesse in your ear as Luciano came into view. “Chance of addiction and the strength of your withdrawals will only go up each time.”

  
  


    “ Well if it isn’t our newest customer,” you heard Luciano say as you offered a short wave and smile. You waited by the steps until he motioned for you to come over, one of his girls moving sideways just like the time before. This time you felt more confident as you sat beside him, making yourself at home.

  
  


    “ Gotta say, I missed your charming face, Luciano,” you said smoothly, taking him aback. He cracked a grin the next moment though, eyes lighting up in a way you had seen a million times before. 

  
  


    “ Well, right back at ya, Lola,” he said, motioning for his bodyguards to bring over the packages. You watched them work, crossing your legs with your hands folded neatly in your lap. Luciano leaned over, grabbing a package identical to your last.

  
  


    “ So tell me,” he said, leaning back with the package still in hand. You knew it wouldn’t be as easy as going in and getting out, so you patiently waited for him to proceed. “How was it? Your first hit and the hits after that?”

  
  


You hadn’t taken any hits after the first, but you had a good idea of how it would progress. You gave a coy smile and a small shrug, batting your eyelashes a few times. “Amazing, really,” you said, a sparkle in your eye. “I’ve never felt so... _ on top of the world _ .”

  
  


    “ Good way to put it,” Luciano replied, flipping the package in his hands. “The way you ran out last time though...well, looked like you were havin’ a bit of a bad trip,” he grinned and for a moment your heart stopped, afraid he had seen through you already. “But by now, you should be a real pro, if you catch my drift…”

  
  


_ Here we go again _ , you glanced to the side as one of the girls started prepping a line on the table, and when you turned back to Luciano he was already holding a straw to your face.

  
  


    “ Care to take a line with me, Lola?” 

  
  


His grin was almost predatory, and you were sure in that moment he had his suspicions as you looked back to the line of white dust on the table, ignoring Jesse’s protests in your ear. Your mouth formed a thin line when the girl continued to pour not just two lines, but  _ four _ .

  
  


    “ That’s quite a bit of Cocanium, there,” you mentioned casually, raising a brow. Luciano laughed as you took the straw, motioning for you to take a hit.

  
  


    “ When you’ve been on it a while, you gotta’ take more or it dulls down. Didn’t you notice?” his smug face made you inwardly cringe as you twirled the straw about in your hands. “Don’t worry though,” he added. “Two are for me, Lola.”

  
  


Well, that was a relief. Yet two lines after only ever doing one was risky, and you twirled your straw just a bit quicker as you felt Luciano’s hand on your shoulder, his lips almost against your ear.

  
  


    “ Go for it,” he whispered, patting you gently. It was deceptive--in stark contrast to the look in his eyes. “I’ll follow your lead.”

  
  


    “ _ Goddammit _ ,” you heard Jesse swear in your ear, and you had a moment of deja vu as you scooted to the edge of your seat, steadying your straw over the dust. 

  
  


    “ It’s an honor,” you said back to Luciano before taking a deep breath, straw to your nostril.

  
  


It hurt just as bad as the first time as the first line disappeared, your nose burning from the impact. You coughed a little, pinching your nose in hopes of it burning less before you glanced to the second row. Luciano followed through with his promise to follow your lead, his line disappearing far faster than yours as he sat back, rubbing his nose with a grin. You bit your lip, already feeling the high starting to hit.

  
  


_The quick work of snorting_ you thought dryly as you prepped yourself for the second hit before the first really kicked in. You leaned over, following the white trail with your straw as you inhaled--you used your other nostril this time, to save the first from more pain.

  
  


“Ah fuck,” you muttered as you leaned back with Luciano, hand to nose. Your whole nose had gone numb by now and you felt Luciano’s hand snake its way around your waist as your limbs began to tingle.

  
  


“Like a pro,” he said, situating himself to get more comfortable. You blinked a few times, trying to hold your ground against the wave of sensations bombarding you.

  
  


    “ Still working on it,” you said, your voice sounding further away than it was. You were desperately trying to keep control of your body as you offered him a smile, leaning into his hold. You glanced his way, relaxing when he seemed to have accepted your presence again.

  
  


    “ Now, down to business,” he said with a yawn, holding up the small package. “Same price as last time.”

  
  


    “Actually…” you trailed off, pursing your lips. “Look, I work at a bar...and I know for a fact a lot of my customers would be... _very_ interested in... _this_ ,” you motioned to the table, your movements feeling slow. Or maybe the world felt fast. You couldn’t stop smiling.

  
  


    “ Mmmm?” Luciano’s attention immediately shifted to you, and you knew you were on the spot now. His fingers tightened around the package, his hand gripping your waist tighter by a fraction. “You tryin’ to make a deal, Lola?”

  
  


    “Just a small one,” You said, holding your hands up. “Just enough for some bar goers...I figured it’d be... _good business_ is all.”

  
  


Luciano hummed, tossing the package up into the air a few times before breaking into a grin. His teeth looked brighter than usual.

  
  


    “ I’ll bite, Lola,” he said with a shrug. You saw his bodyguards look at each other--obviously they hadn’t expected Luciano to go along with your offer. But they retrieved a few more packages when Luciano motioned for them.

  
  


    “You can’t be _serious_ , Luci,” you had forgotten about the girl beside you, jumping when she spoke. “You hardly _know_ her.”

  
  


    “ Speak when spoken to,” was all he said, making the girl stiffen and glare. But she quieted down and before you knew it there were at least ten packages in front of you.

  
  


    “Here’s how this works,” Luciano said, leaning forward. With him arm around you, you were forced to lean forward as well. “You pay me for _your_ bit, then I graciously give you these ten packages. You deliver to me six-thousand by the end of _this month_ , and we’ll go from there,” he glanced to you, looking you over with a thoughtful expression.

  
  


    “ You’ll have to write down your workplace and address, however,” he added. You frowned and he shrugged innocently. “We gotta know where to come find you if you don’t deliver.”

  
  


    “ We got the addresses, hold up,” you heard Jesse say, making you bounce your foot impatiently. 

  
  


    “ Well, Lola?” you heard Luciano from your side, making you exhale in an attempt to calm your drugged-up nerves. Finally, you heard Jesse’s voice start listing addresses, and you spilled them out a moment later.

  
  


    “ ...and Jasper’s Bar and Grill is where I work…” you lied through your teeth, watching one of the guards write it down. The addresses had been prepared for your cover, yet you hadn’t actually worked at the bar nor lived on the street you gave him.

  
  


Considering you just got a whole lot more involved, that was about to change. 

  
  


    “ Thanks a bunch, Lola,” he said, letting your waist go. “We’ll be seeing you soon, yeah?”

  
  


That was your cue to leave as you stood on shaky legs, the world much too bright and loud and  _ fast _ . The drugs were hitting full-force, and you hardly managed to smile and nod his way as you started for the hallway. 

  
    “ See you soon, Luciano,” you said with a wave, disappearing down the hall.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're at chapter 10 holy crap dOUBLE DIGITS. 
> 
> Ok hear me out though for a moment---I'm sorry if the drug deals and stuff seem to be going slow but it's all gonna culminate into some big-ass plot points, including more Reyes time. Jesse just keeps getting more time because he's ALWAYS THERE and his character is just more personable than Reyes, who takes longer to warm up to. So hang in there for me Reyes fans, his time is coming--and you'll see why it's taking so long in idk, 5-10 chapters. THERE ARE REASONS SO HOLD OUT FOR ME CRIES. 
> 
> Also on that note, we have quite a few people asking for a poly relationship. I'm iffy on this because it would take more writing to do well, but if that's a mass-majority thing I'll consider it. 
> 
> PS: I would love a beta reader tbh like I'm so unsure about these chapters I honestly panic when I post so if any of you lovely people are into beta-reading I'd love that. I'll only pick one though ;A;
> 
> SORRY FOR LONG NOTES.


	11. Careful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Those your friends?”
> 
>  
> 
> You jumped, whirling around to come face-to-face with Luciano. He had his hands stuffed in his pockets, a smug smile on his face. You wondered how much he had heard and prayed it wasn’t too much.
> 
>  
> 
> “Luciano,” you croaked, taking a moment to cough afterwards. “You scared me....I didn’t think you’d visit so soon…”

“Throwing up now?”

 

You licked your lips as you hugged one of the base’s toilets, your gut all sorts of twisted. You didn’t have to look back to know Reyes was standing in the doorway of your stall, arms crossed and all sorts of disappointed.

 

“It’s nothin’,” you muttered right before dry-heaving. Nothing came up so you coughed instead, tears streaming down your face. You heard a sigh as the stall door closed behind you, and for a moment you thought Reyes had left up until you felt your hair being gently pulled back.

 

“So you aren’t regretting this yet?” he muttered from behind you as your shoulders started to shake. You didn’t know if you had anything left in you, but the nausea persisted and your gut continued to twist and turn.

 

“Nope,” you replied with a small laugh, closing your eyes. “Not yet…”

 

You had spent the last hour running around as the soldier high hit, chatting everyone up that happened to come into view. The mission debrief was mostly a blur, but you got the important things out of it--you had a new house, you had a new job, and you were supposed to hand over all drugs received from Luciano. Blackwatch would pay the expenses to keep you in the game.

 

“How are the cravings?” you heard Reyes ask, making you swallow. You hadn’t mentioned those to anyone yet, but they were definitely there this time--a deep hunger in the back of your mind that whispered _take a hit and this’ll be over_.

 

“...they’re there,” you muttered, shivering. Before either of you could continue you leaned over the toilet and retched, your whole body shaking with the effort. You heard Reyes scoff and you resisted the urge to flip him off.

 

“This is only going to get worse,” he said, his grip on your hair tightening. You frowned, reaching up to flush the toilet.

 

“You keep saying that, but I’m not hearing any solutions,” you spat out, finally turning to look at him. He looked you over, taking in your sickly appearance.

 

“I told you to quit, but you didn’t listen,” he said, and you turned back to the toilet with a sigh. “Now you’re in too deep.”

 

“Is that why you came in here? To lecture me and say _I told you so_?” you asked, exhausted. Your superior didn’t immediately answer, so you spat a few times in the toilet hoping the nasty taste in your mouth would diminish.

 

“I came to tell you McCree will be going on his own mission as of today,” your eyebrows furrowed as you looked back to Reyes again, confused.

 

“Wait, I thought he was like, my partner in this,” you said, a feeling of unease washing over you. No Jesse? When had there _ever_ been no Jesse?

 

“I’ll be taking over his operations in the meantime,” you felt him let go of your hair then, stepping back. His hands immediately went across his chest as usual, and you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand as you flushed the toilet again, standing.

 

“Nothing better to do, sir?” you asked, sniffing. You swore you saw him crack a smile--maybe just half of one--before he turned around, opening the stall door.

 

“Your operation doesn’t require much effort on my part. I’m handling more than just your mission.”

 

“Well aren’t you quite the multi-tasker,” you murmured under your breath, though you were sure he heard you. You sighed, closing the stall as you followed him, stopping at the exit with sudden realization.

 

“....were you just in the girl’s bathroom?”

 

“You were the only one in there.”

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

    Your house was small. Tiny, really, with bare essentials. A living room, bedroom and a bathroom across from that--it wasn’t anything special, but it _was_ bigger than you room back at base so you supposed you had that to be grateful for.

 

    The fridge had only a few items inside, such as milk and eggs, and your pantry wasn’t much better off--mostly brands of cereal and instant noodles.

 

    All in all, it was the sort of place a minimum-wage worker would have. So it fit perfectly, though you bitterly thought that Blackwatch could have expended a _little_ more cash towards some decent furniture, instead of the dusty couch you now sat on.

 

    “Like it?”

 

    You grimaced, looking to Reyes as he inspected your counters, running a finger along the edge. He had insisted on coming with you, to your displeasure, and you found yourself missing Jesse’s western drawl with every word Reyes said to you.

 

    “Not particularly,” you said, pinching your nose to resist a sneeze. You made a note to vacuum the dust later. “Did you even put bacon in the fridge? Because all I see is cereal and ramen.”

 

    “That’s what your bar-salary can afford,” he said, looking back to you. He had a smug air about him that made you scowl. “Maybe you could earn a raise while you work there.”

 

    “Haha, funny,” you spat, absently watching a spider crawl up the wall beside you. You’d have to bug-bomb the place, too, it seemed. “Thanks for taking such care in complimenting my cover. Now Luciano will suspect _nothing_.”

 

    “That’s the plan, in case you forgot,” Reyes was now leaning back against your counters with his arms crossed, staring you down. You stared right back. “Keep your transmitter on you at all times,” he continued, pointing to his ear. You instinctively reached up to check if yours was still in place. It was. “Luciano will probably pay you a visit down the line, either here or at work. Keep in touch if that happens.”

 

    “Aye aye, _captain my captain_ ,” you said with a lazy salute, raising your feet to rest on the coffee table in front of you. Reyes snorted at your poetic reference, pushing himself off the counter to stand straight once more.

 

    “I’m serious, _____,” you froze at your name, having never heard it come from his lips. At least, not in a personal setting--not like this. It felt too intimate to you, and you were speechless as he continued. “Luciano could come to demand payment early, so we’ll be giving you increments of one-thousand every once in awhile in case that happens.”

 

    “Al...alright,” you stammered, still caught off guard by his use of your name. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care as he continued.

 

    “The only person at work that knows you’re undercover is owner of the establishment, who you’ll probably not meet personally since he doesn’t work there himself. So get along with your coworkers--you aren’t special in their eyes. If Luciano visits you there, make sure not to start anything. A lot of people could get hurt.”

 

    “Am I allowed back at base?” you sort of blurted the question out as it came to mind, making Reyes stop to look you over.

 

    “...only when granted permission. We don’t want to risk anyone following you and your cover getting blown. If you…. _insist_ on continuing your drug use, you’ll be brought in for inspection by our doctors.”

 

    You pursed your lips, your thoughts drifting to Marcey. You hadn’t seen her in over a month, and now you wondered how much longer that would be.

 

    “...can _I_ have visitors?” you asked as innocently as possible. Reyes wasn’t fooled, though, with how his expression hardened.

 

    “Only if I allow it.”

 

    “This is an awful lot of red-tape for a tapeless organization,” you muttered, throwing yourself back on the couch. A cloud of dust sprung up and you coughed a few times, waving your hand around. Reyes cracked a smirk.

 

    “If you want to stay safe, I suggest you follow my orders,” he began to walk towards the door then, making you jump to your feet.

 

    “Wait, one last question!” Reyes stopped, hand on the doorknob as he turned back to look at you. You fidgeted, scratching your cheek nervously. “I...I was just wondering when Jesse would be back.”

 

    Reyes’ smirk grew as he turned the doorknob. “Confidential,” he said, opening the door. “But not for a while, so we’ll be stuck working together for some time.”

 

    You groaned as the door closed.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

    Your job proved just as tiring as you suspected. You were trained for a couple of days as a server before being thrown into the fire, precariously balancing plates and glasses on top of old, worn-down trays. You initially dropped a few plates here and there, spilled water on a regular, but overall you did alright.

 

    Blackwatch training would hold up against a server job. Your patience, however, was waning as you looked up in time to see Reyes talking to the host. You swore under your breath, only to freeze when you saw a second person walk up behind him.

 

    “ _Marcey_ ,” you murmured, almost dropping the tray you were holding. Someone shouted at you to get moving so you spun around, rushing to your next table with a small grin.

 

    They were, “by luck”, sat in your section. When you checked in with the other tables you made your way to theirs, smiling. Marcey was grinning back, and you noted she looked just a little more mature.

 

    “Hey Marcey,” you said, sliding both her and Reyes a glass of water. You tucked your tray under your arm, your other hand on your hip. “Long time no see.”

 

    “Yeah, no joke. I’ve been getting drilled by our senior sniper in training--it’s been _exhausting_ ,” she laughed, her cheeks reddening. You laughed with her, glad to see her again.

 

    That’s when you looked over to Reyes with a raised brow, trying to figure out why _he_ was there. When it clicked you straightened, eyebrows furrowed.

 

    “ _Are you two on a--_ ”

 

    “No,” you were cut off before you could say ‘date’, jaw slamming back shut. Now _your_ face was red because you had just made Marcey’s _incredibly_ red, and you felt just a bit guilty.

 

    “Oh. S-sorry, I just didn’t know why you…”

 

    “You mentioned wanting visitors, before,” Reyes said, taking a sip of water. “Your workplace was the safest place to meet.”

 

    You were surprised that he had gone out of his way to reunite you and Marcey. Slowly you smiled, nodding a few times before bringing out your little notepad and pen from your apron pocket. “Well, then, can I get your guys’ orders?”

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

    The rest of your shift was spent rather well. Reyes and Marcey had come during your last hour or so, allowing you time to whip off your apron and catch up to them as they left. Marcey stopped for you first, cheeks still just a little pink.

 

    “Hey, B, you off work?” she asked, hands tucked behind her back. You nodded, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand.

 

    “Yeah, for today. Just wanted to say thanks for coming over is all,” you smiled as Marcey reached out to hug you, patting you on the back.

 

    “No problem! I was startin’ to miss you, B,” she said as she pulled away, hands hidden in her pockets. “It was the Commander’s idea though.”

 

    You looked over to Reyes then, who stood in his usual pose watching the two of you. You walked over, looking only the slightest bit sheepish as you scratched your neck, looking him over.

 

    “...thanks for this,” you said with a smile. Reyes just nodded, as stoic as ever.

 

    “Don’t expect this often,” he said, turning towards a black car nearby. “Remember to stay in contact.”

 

    “Yes sir,” you murmured, watching as Marcey gave you a wave before following the Commander. As their car left the parking lot you sighed, digging in your purse for your own keys.

 

    “Those your friends?”

 

    You jumped, whirling around to come face-to-face with Luciano. He had his hands stuffed in his pockets, a smug smile on his face. You wondered how much he had heard and prayed it wasn’t too much.

 

    “Luciano,” you croaked, taking a moment to cough afterwards. “You scared me....I didn’t think you’d visit so soon…”

 

    “Mm, yeah,” he nodded, eyes slowly making their way to where Reyes’ car had been. “Tried your house first but you weren’t there. So obviously this was the next place to go…” he trailed off, deep in thought as his eyes returned to you--his eyes were golden and seemed to glow under the streetlight.

 

“Did you need something?” you asked, shifting your weight uneasily.

 

“Do I?” he grinned then, making a lump form in your throat. You still didn’t know if you were in the clear as he stared you down. You could hold your own against Reyes, but Luciano’s stare was purely _predatory_ and you couldn’t hold his gaze. When you looked downwards you heard him laugh.

 

“You’re cuter than the usuals we get,” he said, leaning forward. Your cheeks burned in rage, but you said nothing in return. “A lot _cleaner_. Meat on your bones, shiney hair…”

 

“I don’t know what you’re getting at so spit it out,” you came off rougher than you expected, jaw clenching immediately afterwards. Now Luciano was really laughing, his ponytail swishing behind him.

 

“And you’re _feisty_ . I always liked a woman who could put up a fight,” he took a step closer and you took a step back, glancing around the parking lot. There were a couple of people here and there walking to and from their cars, so you didn’t feel _too_ threatened. Besides, you could probably take him on-- _probably_.

 

“If you’re flirting with me, I’m flattered,” you muttered, crossing your arms defensively.

 

“Should be,” Luciano yawned, bringing one hand from his pocket to cover his mouth. He looked you over again before shrugging, starting to turn. “I just came to check your addresses. I find you _interesting_ , Lola. Hopefully we’ll be keeping this partnership for a while,” he flashed another sickening grin before sauntering away to his own car, leaving you with a twisted gut and dry mouth.

 

You reached back into your purse to find your keys again, cursing when you realized you had dropped them. You picked them off the ground, looking back to your car with a frown.

  
You’d have to be more careful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! Chapter is DONE
> 
> I also started a Junkrat fic for fun if anyone likes Junkrat c:
> 
> Also bye bye Jesse. We need more Gabe time


	12. Is That What They Told You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “...how’d you find out?” you dared to ask, making Luciano laugh.
> 
> “Start driving first. Then ask your questions.”
> 
> You hesitated until he pressed the gun against your head hard enough to leave a bruise, starting the ignition a second later. The car roared to life and you pulled out of the parking lot, praying one of the pedestrians would notice your situation.
> 
> They didn’t, and you continued to drive until you were on the main streets, hands clutching the steering wheel for dear life.

“ _You didn’t have your transmitter on_?”

 

    You winced, tempted to pull the device back out of your ear when Reyes’ voice blasted through. You blushed, embarrassed by your mistake as you flopped onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling.

 

    You had just told Reyes about your encounter with Luciano in the parking lot the night before.

 

    “Ok, yeah, I _did_ forget but I didn’t think he’d be coming _that soon_ …”

 

    “I _told_ you he’d visit. I told you to keep your transmitter on at all times--you could have gotten hurt or worse after we left. You were _completely_ defenseless--”

 

    “Not so confident in those hand-to-hand moves you taught me?” you interrupted with a small laugh, regretting it when you heard him groan on the other side of the line. You could almost see him in your mind, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

 

    “That won’t save you from a _gun_ , _____.”

 

    You frowned, sitting up in bed with your legs crossed. Whenever he used your name, you seemed to forget what you had planned to say. You wondered if that was his goal.

 

    “Keep in touch from now on,” you heard him say when the silence had gone on for a bit too long. “Be careful.”

 

    You heard the hiss of static as the transmission ended, making you groan. You reached up and turned your device off as well, looking around your mostly-bare room in thought. You knew your Commander was right. He had a habit for it--being right all the time.

 

    “...wish Jesse was here,” you muttered, finally slipping out of bed. You hated to admit it, but you missed the cowboy’s way of talking. He was so much... _nicer_.

 

    You had thought you’d warmed up to Reyes the night before after he brought Marcey into your workplace. It was a nice gesture, and you hadn’t expected Reyes to do it. But the next day, as soon as you mentioned Luciano, Reyes reverted to his usual stoic-and-mad self, and you felt almost a little sad about it.

 

    “Oh well, oh well,” you stretched, walking to your dresser to get some fresh clothes out. “No time to think about it. Gotta’ get to work…”

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

    Work was largely uneventful, though you were jumpier than usual thanks to Luciano’s previous visit. You half-hoped Marcey would show up again, but of course neither she nor Reyes made an appearance your whole shift.

 

    It was dark by the time you were done. You breathed a sigh of relief as you exited the establishment, slinging your server apron over your shoulder as you came to a stop by the curb. You looked around warily for any sign of Luciano or...well, anything suspicious, really.

 

    You jumped when you heard static.

 

    “You there, Barrett?”

 

    You breathed a sigh of relief, one hand going to your chest. You reached up to turn your transmitter back on, smiling as you did.

 

    “Commander,” you said, unable to hide how grateful you were to hear his voice. “What’s up? Everything is fi--”

 

    “ _Get to base_.”

 

    “Huh?” you stopped, the familiar feeling of dread creeping up your back. Something was wrong, and your grip on your apron tightened as you started backing up on the curb. “What’s--”

 

    “Had a bad feeling so we checked your house. It’s been broken into--they’ve figured something out and you need to _get back to base right now_.”

 

    You choked, your mouth going dry as your eyes scanned the parking lot. There were customers coming and going, brushing past you like they were without a care in the world. But you--you stood there eyeing all of them, paranoia beginning to plague your brain.

 

    “Got it sir,” you finally said, stepping off the curb to quickly make your way to your car. When you slipped into the driver’s seat you let out a shaky breath, tossing your apron into the passenger’s seat. As you leaned forward to put the keys in the ignition you felt something press against the back of your head.

 

    “Lola,” you froze, your whole body going cold. The backseat--the _backseat._ What a rookie mistake to not check all the seats.

 

    “...Luciano,” you murmured. He pressed the gun harder to your head, forcing your head down.

 

    “Turn it off,” you glanced up, trying to see his face in the rearview mirror. You couldn’t.

 

    “ _Do not turn off the transmitter,”_ you heard Reyes command you. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

 

    “I don’t know what you’re--”

 

    The gun shifted to your temple as Luciano leaned forward, his lips against your ear.

 

    “If she doesn’t turn it off,” he whispered, making you shiver. He was talking to Reyes now, and you heard him swear in your ear. “She’ll lose her goddamn head. So _turn it off, Lola_.”

 

    “Fine,” you reached up before Reyes could say anything else, flicking the switch. That wasn’t enough for Luciano, though, who then held out his free hand. His fingers twitched forward.

 

    “Now take it out.”

 

    You reluctantly reached up to pull the transmitter from your ear, dropping it into the palm of his hand. His hand closed around it and with his thumb he started breaking pieces off.

 

    “Open the window,” you sighed, doing as you were told. He tossed the transmitter remnants out the window before commanding you to close it. You stared at your steering wheel blankly, unsure what would happen next. You stayed perfectly still as Luciano shifted, eventually climbing over into the passenger’s seat. He tossed your apron to the back, his gun never leaving your head.

 

    “...how’d you find out?” you dared to ask, making Luciano laugh.

 

    “Start driving first. Then ask your questions.”

 

    You hesitated until he pressed the gun against your head hard enough to leave a bruise, starting the ignition a second later. The car roared to life and you pulled out of the parking lot, praying one of the pedestrians would notice your situation.

 

    They didn’t, and you continued to drive until you were on the main streets, hands clutching the steering wheel for dear life.

 

    “Now, how did I figure out?” Luciano hummed, leaning back in his seat. “Well, took a picture of you and your friends the night before and sent it to our HQ. You just didn’t fit in, Lola--I know a druggie when I see one, and you are _not_ one. On your way though,” he cracked a grin before motioning with his gun to turn left.

 

    “So what, your HQ figured it out with just one picture?” you asked, watching a cop pass by. You wished he’d stop you. “My face that famous already?”

 

    “You could say that,” Luciano seemed to enjoy toying with you, a light in his eyes that reminded you of fire. The sort that devours everything in its way. “It was the man that gave you away initially--Gabriel Reyes. Who would have thought a war hero would be on my ass?”

 

    He let out another burst of laughter, shaking his head as though it were all the funniest thing he had ever heard. His gun jabbed right, and you turned.

 

    You said nothing in response to his words, but he didn’t seem content to keep quiet himself. His free hand waved in the air as he spoke, mostly in circles with wild jabs in the air for emphasis.

 

    “Then the boss saw _your_ face and _wow_ \--you must have pissed him off in the past because I got the order to take you in _today_ ,” he looked to you then, leaning towards you. It almost made you steer off the road.

 

    “______ _Barrett, right?”_

 

You still refused to reply, which he shrugged off because his eyes said he already knew the truth, and refuting it was futile. “A little con artist, I found out. Guess undercover work goes hand-in-hand with that sort of thing. Honestly, I admire you--I really do. Ripping people off is _my_ speciality too--”

 

    “Do you _ever_ shut up?”

 

    The car swerved when he hit your head with the butt of the gun, a car honking as you drove past. You swore, one of your own hands reaching up to tenderly rub the spot he had hit.

 

    “Turn left and then immediately right,” he directed almost lazily, yawning a moment later. You sent him a glare but did as told, coming under a bridge on the left and driving down a tunnel with your right. You didn’t recognize the streets you were going down, and every minute spent with Luciano pushed you further towards the edge.

 

    The tunnel, as it so happened, branched off in multiple directions. He steered you through them seemingly at random, laughing every once in awhile for no real reason as far as you could tell. When you re-emerged you were in an emptier part of town with few buildings in the area.

 

    “That shoulda’ lost’em,” Luciano chimed, making your heart drop. He had been making you take a convoluted route in case anyone was following, and you had gone along with it. You swore under your breath, fists tightening on the wheel.

 

    “Annnnd go ahead and turn another left up here, Lola,” he directed, leading you down a spiraling road. It stopped at a dead end, which made you scoff as you stopped the car.

 

    “Don’t even remember your way to HQ?” you chided. You were ignored as Luciano leaned over out his window, looking around.

 

    “Oi, let us in. I got our guest,” you furrowed your eyebrows, trying to see what he was looking at. When you bent over far enough you were surprised to see a camera aimed your way.

 

    “What…”

 

    That’s when the ground seemed to come alive, the rocky walls you were previously facing giving way to another road. As the rocks moved to either side of you Luciano returned his gaze to you and gave a wink.

 

    “Keep drivin’, Lola.”

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

    The rest of the drive was spent with your jaw and hands clenched, eyes darting around your newfound scenery as the rocks slid back into place behind you. The place was made mostly of metal and was swarming with workers dressed in all-black. It would have reminded you of Blackwatch’s HQ, if it weren’t for the dangerous looks being directed your way.

 

    You parked in the middle of the room, looking to Luciano afterwards. He finally removed the gun from your head, opening his door to step out with a stretch. You moved to get out as well, only for two men to show up and _drag_ you out with force.

 

    “Hey, whoa, watch it--” you shouted as they roughly tugged your hands behind your back. You felt steel clamp around your wrists and groaned at the presence of handcuffs, jingling them experimentally for a few seconds.

 

    “Boss wants to see her right now,” one man said to Luciano, pushing you at him. You stumbled forward, appalled when Luciano caught you in his grip with an arm around your shoulders.

 

    “No problem,” he returned, starting to lead you away. You looked back to your car as some men started to get inside of it, probably moving it to wherever they kept their vehicles. You turned forward again when Luciano’s grip on your shoulder tightened.

 

    “...so what’s gonna happen to me, _Luci_?” you asked, trying to keep up some bravado. Luciano was unfazed however as he lead you past the other men, most wearing gas masks of some sort.

 

    “No clue, Lola, but probably nothin’ good. I mean, the look on Boss’ face when he saw your picture--glad I’m not _you_ ,” he grinned at you, and you resisted the urge to headbutt his face.

 

    You took a mix of elevators and stairs to get to the top of the base, and you had to admire the work they had put into the place as you stumbled along. You tried several times to shrug off Luciano’s hold on you only for his fingers to tighten painfully. You gave up once you were sure you’d have fingerprint bruises.

 

    Finally you arrived to a large, silver door. Luciano punched a button beside the doorframe, a buzzer sounding off.

 

    “Hey boss, I got the girl,” he called out, releasing the button. It took a few seconds before a voice answered him back.

 

    “Bring her inside, then leave.”

 

    Your eyes narrowed, a chill running up your spine. The voice had been familiar to you--maybe? You weren’t sure.

 

    Either way the doors swung open and Luciano dragged you inside, giving your shoulder a little pat before stepping away.

 

    “Good luck, Lola,” he chimed before backing up, giving you one last look before disappearing behind the silver doors.

 

    There was silence after that. The sort of silence that suffocates you, emphasized by the fact the large man in front of you had yet to turn around. You shifted your weight uneasily, your handcuffs jingling behind you.

 

    “...it’s been a long time, ______, “ when the man finally spoke you jumped, staring at the man’s back in confusion.

 

    “Sorry, but I don’t think I remember you--” you said, biting  your lip. “If I conned you, is it too late to say sorry?”

 

    You were surprised by the man’s laugh. It was almost _jovial_ in nature--completely contradicting his station. You waited for him to stop, planning a rebuttal only to freeze as he finally turned your way. Your heart dropped or maybe it stopped--you couldn’t tell with how cold your body had gone.

 

    You studied his face--it was aged with scruff on his chin and jawline. His hair was swept sideways, arms folded behind his back in a professional manner. His eyes sparkled, and you couldn’t hold his gaze as you looked away, closing your own eyes as though trying to erase his image from your memory.

 

    Again.

 

    “Father,” you muttered quietly, giving the ground a hard stare. “....you’re supposed to be dead.”

  
    “Now is _that_ what they told you, love?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooOOOOH snAP PLOT TWIST.
> 
> Say hello to daddy Barrett. Special thanks to retrouvailles (melanieerdelyi), my new beta-reader! ;u;
> 
> Hope ya'll were caught off guard. Shit's gonna go d o w n.


	13. Cliches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “...you made me into one. I didn't know any better,” you whispered. 
> 
> “That might have been the truth at first, but you could have stopped once I left, ______,” he took another step forward, one hand reaching for you. You didn't step back, but you also refused to look at him. “You enjoyed the chase. You enjoyed the thrill of being someone else, just like I did. You got hooked.”
> 
> “What's your point in all the, Cade?” you murmured his first name, looking up to him with a mix of anger and exhaustion. “Why am I here? Why did everyone lie?”
> 
> “It's a long story, he said, now standing only a foot away. “Let's get those handcuffs off first, hm?”

“Now is  _ that _ what they told you, love?”

His words rang in your ears, the implications causing your mind to reel back through the last few months of training and working for Blackwatch. Every look you got at the beginning--the suspicion you chalked up to your profession. The set-up at boot camp, Reyes’ increasing attempts to make you quit the mission.

 

It all began to click painfully in your head, your heart a mix of cold dread and fiery rage. You tried to swallow but your mouth had gone dry and had a cotton-like texture. You father said nothing else as he watched your emotions play across your face, his eyes meeting yours whenever you dared to look up.

 

_ Is that what they told you…? _

 

“So they knew you were alive,” you croaked, your handcuffs jingling behind you. The answer was obvious, so your father simply nodded. You looked down again to your feet, trying to reign everything in like you always did only to feel a few tears start fall against your will. You sniffed, wishing you had a hand to wipe them away so he wouldn’t see.

 

“...you’re a real jackass,” you hissed between your teeth. “Dragging me into all this--into... _ everything _ \--”

 

“Whoa, love,” your father’s hands came up as though trying to calm you. “Take it one thing at a time--”

 

“Then how about we talk about you leaving?” You seethed, looking up to glare at him. “About how you took the money and left? How  _ you _ started me down this whole road?”

 

Your father gave you a weary smile, scratching the back of his neck as he took a deep breath. “...you should know I didn’t want to leave--it’s just that Beth wouldn’t take the money after figuring out what we did--”

 

“What  _ you _ did.”

 

“Hey, don’t try to escape the facts, love,” you flinched when he continued to call you ‘love’, as though you were close in some way. He must have seen the grimace because he gave you a soft smile, taking a few steps forward. 

 

“Don’t come near me,” you took a step back, almost tripping in your haste. He stopped, frowning as he looked you over. You knew your cheeks were still wet from the tears because your eyes were still bleary as you stared him down. You felt like a caged animal, unable to escape.

 

“You hate me that much?” he whispered, a sad look in his eyes. Your resolve didn’t waver an inch, and you almost decided to spit at him in response. But you didn’t.

 

“Such an understatement,” you scoffed. “You’re a criminal. You broke mom’s heart and--”

 

“You’re a criminal too, ______.” 

 

Your cheeks flared red at his words, rage bubbling in your chest. You didn't know how to respond so you averted your gaze, shame added on top of everything else.

 

“...you made me into one. I didn't know any better,” you whispered. 

 

“That might have been the truth at first, but you could have stopped once I left, ______,” he took another step forward, one hand reaching for you. You didn't step back, but you also refused to look at him. “You enjoyed the chase. You enjoyed the thrill of being someone else, just like I did. You got hooked.”

 

“What's your point in all the, Cade?” you murmured his first name, looking up to him with a mix of anger and exhaustion. “Why am I here? Why did everyone lie?”

 

“It's a long story, he said, now standing only a foot away. “Let's get those handcuffs off first, hm?”

 

You didn't move as he went around you, taking your hands in his gently before there was a soft click. You heard him jingle the cuffs while you rubbed your wrists, briefly wondering if you should try to escape anyway. However, looking back towards Cade your curiosity got the better of you and you simply sighed.

 

“Go ahead and take a seat by my desk. Then we can talk it all out.”

 

You hesitated but eventually took a seat in front of his sleek black desk. He sat across from you, hands folded on the desk. You sat stiffly, still very much on guard. 

 

“What do you want to talk about first?” he asked, his voice soft. You didn't relax though. Your father had always been charismatic.

 

“Blackwatch,” you immediately answered, making him raise a brow. You had decided to forego your personal history, jumping right to the meat of things. 

 

“Blackwatch, huh?” he hummed, tilting his head. “...what do you already know?”

 

“Nothing, apparently,” you frowned, your mind flashing images of Reyes and Jesse. 

 

“Right, right...well, it was a good deal at the time,” Cade leaned back, elbows propped up on the arm rests with his hands together under his chin. “Was a choice between life and death when they offered me the job, so I took it. Excelled, too. Enough that they put me in the soldier enhancement program.”

 

“Wait, what?” you almost jumped out of your seat at that, eyes wide. “They put  _ you _ through SEP?”

 

“That's right, love. I'm a fully trained soldier,” he smiled and gave you a wink, making you frown as you digested the new information. 

 

“...is that how you somehow got the drugs? For Cocanium?”

 

“Something like that,” his eyes gleamed with amusement, which only served to fuel your increasing temper.

 

“Give me a straight answer,” you demanded, clenching your fists. He watched you for a moment before tapping a finger against his wrist where a series of scars were.

 

“My new employers used my blood and tissue to replicate the drugs SEP used. From there they started to disperse test runs through the drug underground to see the various effects it had on different buyers.”

 

“So everyone out there is just a guinea pig and you’re  _ fine with that? _ ”

 

Cade gave a noncommittal shrug and your temper increased by another fraction. “They’re all druggies anyway, no one would miss them if something went wrong, love. Besides, if they’re lucky they’ll get the good effects out of it, which would last some time if they took enough.”

 

“I can’t believe you!” you almost shouted at him, back stiffening. “Is all this why you left Blackwatch?”

 

“More or less,” another shrug as he looked sideways, almost as if bored. “The payment offered was substantially above Blackwatch’s.”

 

You finally jumped to your feet, hands slamming down on Cade’s desk. He looked from your hands to your face, a brow raised as you seethed with rage. “ _ It’s always about the money, isn’t it? _ ” you hissed. “ _ Always has been, always will be. _ ”

 

“Why are you saying that as if it’s a bad thing?” Cade broke into laughter, catching you off guard as you leaned back, staring at him. “It’s always been that way--you would know, you’ve played the game.”

 

“Don’t compare us--”

 

“Well, comparison is inevitable, yeah?” Cade leaned back in his seat and you felt your rage begin to dissipate, replaced by sick feeling in your stomach. “You followed in my footsteps, after all. Quite well, I might add. You always had a knack for the game, just like your old man. And when you played the game it was all done for one thing. Money. Am I wrong?”

 

“I…” you trailed off, face burning with shame. “That’s....it’s the only way I knew how to…”

 

“No, you knew you could get a job if you wanted to. I might have taught you the ropes, but I never told you to follow through. That was  _ your _ decision, and it’s the same decision I made when I left Blackwatch.”

 

You went quiet at that, slowly taking a seat once more. Your father wore a smug smile you wished you could wipe from his face, but you were overcome with sudden exhaustion as your father’s words rang in your ears. 

 

“...so you left Blackwatch for the money,” you murmured, looking down to your nails. They were still dirty from work, and you began to pick at them. “...but who hired you?”

 

“Ah, now  _ that’s _ a good question,” Cade rubbed the scruff on his chin. “Their name...is Talon Company.”

 

“Talon Company?” you repeated. He nodded and you committed the name to memory. “...and what...does Talon Company specialize in? Drugs?”

 

“This section, perhaps,” Cade’s expression became disinterested again. “The rest? Not sure. Never cared to ask.”

 

“Never cared to ask…” you let out a dry laugh, closing your eyes.

 

“...last question, then,” you murmured. When you opened your eyes you made eye contact with your father, your mouth forming a thin line. “...why am  _ I _ here?”

 

“There we go, the golden question,” Cade let out a laugh before leaning forward on his desk. His gentle smile made you tense--it didn’t feel right. “I was hoping you’d continue to follow in my footsteps and join me in Talon Company.”

 

You scoffed at that, resisting the temptation to roll your eyes. “Yeah...no,” you sent him a glare, eyes narrowed. “I think I’ll stick to the right side of the law this time,  _ dad _ .”

 

“You think Blackwatch is free of its own skeletons?” Cade’s expression hardly changed as he continued, waving one hand in the air almost lazily. “Blackwatch was  _ made _ to do dirty work, love. All sorts of it, from coercion to assassinations. Didn’t you know?”

 

“I...I’m still new,” you muttered, caught off guard. “I never heard--”

 

“ _ Never heard _ , right. That’s just it--until you’re involved, you’ve ‘ _ never heard’ _ ,” Cade shook his head with a smile--a smile that knew more than you. “If you think Blackwatch’s goal is to protect the innocent, you’d be wrong.”

 

You went silent, at a loss for words as your father finally stood and stretched. Making his way to a cupboard nearby he pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses, putting them on the desk between you.

 

“I think a drink is called for,” he said with a smile, filling the glasses up. You eyed the glass he passed to you, not particularly in a drinking mood. 

 

“I think I’m good,” you said, looking away. You heard Cade sigh from where he stood, then the sound of him sitting down once more.

 

“Can’t a man have a drink with his daughter?” he asked, and his voice sounded  _ so convincing _ you turned to face him again, frowning. You eyeballed the glasses again before picking yours up, gently swirling the wine inside. 

 

“The glass poisoned?” you asked, eyes flicking back to Cade who just smiled and shook his head.

 

“Of course not. That would be cliche.”

 

You sniffed the wine before sighing, taking a swig before putting it back down. You heard your father cough and you looked back to him, surprised by his serious expression.

 

“Now, _______, I’ll ask again...will you join me in Talon Company? Maybe not immediately--you could get a feel for the place first before making your decision, but it would be nice to work with you again,” you stared at your father as he spoke, your face blank as you took in his request. You swirled the wine again in thought, your mind flashing to Reyes and Jesse and Marcey. 

 

“...I think now would be the time to ask what happens if I say no?” you said, fingers tightening around the glass. 

 

Cade said nothing in return, though his eyes took on a different emotion as he stared you down, his frown deep. 

 

“I can’t promise you’ll be safe,” he said. “You’ve seen and heard too much to be released.”

 

You hummed softly, thinking through your options. You could  _ pretend _ to agree until you found an escape route, but one look at your father made your teeth clench and you shook your head, sliding the wine glass a little ways away.

 

“I don’t think so,” you said, standing. “No offense, but the mere  _ thought _ of working with you again...makes me sick. I’m not you, and I’m not about to become you.”

 

Your father’s expression hardened at your words. He gave a heavy sigh, standing as well. 

 

“Love, you don’t know how sorry I am to hear that.”

 

A heavy silence filled the air as you stared at each other. You began to blink as his image blurred, reaching up to rub your eyes as you tried to keep him in your focus. He gave a sad smile as he watched you, and your heart nearly stopped as the world began to spin around you.

 

“You said--” you managed to choke out, gripping the desk for support. “You f...fucking liar you--”

 

“I’m sorry, ______, but I have a terrible fondness for cliches,” you barely heard his words as you crumpled to the floor, vision going dark.

 

“ _ Besides, it was the wine, not the glass. _ ”

  
Those were the last words you heard before everything faded away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really unsure about this chapter so SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT BUT HERE WE ARE....I gotta learn to be confident goddamn. ANYWAY THERE'S UR DAD. HAPPY TIMES.


	14. Two Lefts and a Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the sudden calming sensation washing over you, you tried to tug at the handles and found that the door had been locked. You cursed under your breath as your forehead hit the cold steel, knees crumpling under you as you slid down the door. Your hands weakly held onto the handles, their grip slowly loosening as the tranquilizer in your shoulder took you out.
> 
>  
> 
> You looked back to glare weakly at the aids coming to retrieve you, your vision blurring yet again. You felt hands grab at you as you closed your eyes, hands dropping from the door handles when someone pried your fingers off. You hardly realized you were being carried back to the gurney as images of Marcey, Jesse and Reyes flashed through your mind, a tear rolling down your cheek.
> 
>  
> 
> Save me.

 

The first thing you realized upon waking up was that there was a bright light directly above you. You squinted, the light too harsh as you attempted to reach up and block it.

 

The second thing you realized was that you were restrained.

 

“The fuck…?” you whispered to yourself, trying to blink away the bleariness that comes with sleep. You yanked your arm up but it held fast to the gurney you were strapped on, the leather belts digging into the soft skin of your wrist. 

 

The third thing you realized was that you were not alone.

 

As your eyes adjusted to the light you saw three people casually walking around the room. Each wore a medical mask across their nose and mouth, and with their hair covered as well their only defining features were their eyes, which hardly glanced your way as you yanked your restraints for the third time. 

 

It was when one of them pushed a tray of medical tools to the side of your bed you truly began to panic. You tried to kick yourself free, but your legs hardly budged and fear began to pool in your stomach. You didn’t know what was going to happen, but every horror movie you had seen told you it was nothing good.

 

“Calm yourself,” one of the “doctors” said from beside you. When his hand gently touched your shoulder you snarled and tried to wiggle away, glaring up into his blue eyes. 

 

Those blue eyes held absolutely no emotion. They were cold and without empathy, despite his kind gesture, and you felt yourself getting sicker. His fingers tightened on your shoulder before letting go, motioning to the others. 

 

As they brought over an IV bag you looked to the one in charge with a frown, trying to grasp the situation. You licked your lips before speaking.

 

“Where’s Cade?” you asked, your voice thin from fear. “Where’s my father?”

 

“Working,” was the only reply you got as he inspected the IV bag. It was full of something blue, the contents swirling about inside almost as if alive. When the man turned to you, his boney fingers placing themselves on your arm, you began to struggle again.

 

“Hey--hey, f-fuck off--” you stammered, violently thrashing on the gurney. “Y-you aren’t putting that inside me--what is--stop!”

 

The others came around the gurney to hold you down, their gloved fingers digging deep into your skin. You let out a small yelp of pain as the one in charge began to insert the needle into your arm, completely unfazed by your outburst. As the blue liquid ran down the tube you felt tears begin to fall down your cheeks, your breathing labored. 

 

“Please, no,” you whispered, shaking your head. “What...what is…”

 

“A more pure form of what you know as ‘Cocanium’,” the man finally responded, watching the IV bag drip into you. “The drug was originally mixed with cocaine because its user base was large enough to distribute test samples. However, that was never our goal,” he looked back down to you, blue eyes shining in the harsh light. “We’re attempting to recreate the soldier drug completely. You have the honor of being the first to use this sample.”

 

“You’re pumping me full of  _ experimental drugs _ ?” you asked incredulously, your fear renewed as you eyed the blue liquid draining into your arm. “G-get Cade--get my father, he couldn’t have--”

 

“Approved? He did,” the man brushed you off as he turned away from you, choosing to sit down in a chair nearby. His subordinates stood off to the side, arms held professionally behind their back as they observed. You swallowed, your throat unusually tight.

 

You didn’t know why you assumed your father wouldn’t approve of this. He had made it clear before that you wouldn’t be leaving with the information you had, and you had blatantly ignored him. Now, you laid strapped down to a gurney as a test subject, completely helpless as the blue liquid drained into your veins.

 

“...what’s going to happen to me?” you whispered, closing your eyes. You were trying to get a grip on yourself, but your arm had begun to tingle, spikes of pain shooting up to your shoulder when you flexed your fingers. 

 

“We don’t know,” the man answered with a shrug. “Ideally you’ll begin to feel energized. You’ll experience an increase in strength and stamina over time and your reflexes will improve as well.”

 

“What’s the non-ideal version?” you dared to ask as a warmth began to spread throughout your body.

 

“You die.”

 

A strangled sob escaped your lips as you tried to hold back your tears, your body practically on fire. You felt acid in your throat and realized you were close to throwing up, the pain becoming too much. As you began to gag the man motioned for one of his aides to bring a bucket beside you, which you immediately turned to throw up in as best you could.

 

As you coughed into the bucket you felt streams of tears running down your face, your vision blurry and unfocused. The drug was nothing like Cocanium--there was no pleasant buzz or soothing sensations--only blinding pain. You couldn’t help but let out a scream as the fire spread to your chest, your voice wavering as your lungs constricted. Nobody in the room so much as flinched as your scream echoed off the bare walls--no one seemed to care.

 

“ _ Please _ ,” you begged, starting to thrash against the gurney again. Desperation began to cloud your mind alongside the drugs, your eyes trying to focus on the IV in your arm. “ _ STOP-- _ ”

 

You yanked your arm as hard as you could, and if you had been in your right state of mind you would have been surprised by the leather belt snapping against you. With your arm free you reached over to rip out the IV, snarling as an aid rushed towards you. 

 

By the time they got there you had freed both of your hands, aiming a punch for their throat that landed with a sickening crunch. You wasted no time trying to free your legs next, ripping at the leather until they came undone. You heard chatter around you, alarmed shouts and commands but none of it made sense as you fell off the gurney onto your hands and knees, hardly feeling the pain of the impact. 

 

You scrambled to your feet and punched the first person you saw, whirling around to look for an exit. When you found the double doors on the other side of the room you jumped over the gurney and made a sprint for it, only to feel something embed in your shoulder right as your hands touched the handles.

 

Despite the sudden calming sensation washing over you, you tried to tug at the handles and found that the door had been locked. You cursed under your breath as your forehead hit the cold steel, knees crumpling under you as you slid down the door. Your hands weakly held onto the handles, their grip slowly loosening as the tranquilizer in your shoulder took you out.

 

You looked back to glare weakly at the aids coming to retrieve you, your vision blurring yet again. You felt hands grab at you as you closed your eyes, hands dropping from the door handles when someone pried your fingers off. You hardly realized you were being carried back to the gurney as images of Marcey, Jesse and Reyes flashed through your mind, a tear rolling down your cheek.

 

_ Save me _ .

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

You lost track of the days that passed. There were no windows in the small room you were kept in. No clocks, either. And so time blurred together as you lost and regained consciousness, IV bags dripping into your veins almost 24/7. 

 

The burning had subsided, at least. Or perhaps you had just grown accustomed to it. Maybe you just lost the ability to feel pain. You didn’t know and you slowly forgot how to care. Your tears had long since dried, leaving your eyes crusty and red and bleary. You didn’t even know if the staff was the same or if they changed shifts throughout the day--their faces were all covered and their eyes all so  _ empty _ .

 

Just like yours.

 

“Everything is going well,” you heard someone say off to the side. It didn’t seem directed at you--they never really spoke to you. But sometimes they  _ did _ speak, and you’d listen. “She’s shown increases in strength, if nothing else. The rest will be tested at the end of this week if things continue to go well.”

 

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, lightly tugging at your restraints. They had been tripled since the “incident” and there was little to no chance of you breaking out a second time. 

 

And so, you found yourself losing hope at a rapid pace. No one had come to save you, the IV bags were always being replenished and you were completely immobilized. You had all but given up.

 

You felt yourself drifting off again--from either exhaustion or the drugs you didn’t know--when a loud crash made you jump awake. You heard the aids begin to shout so you lifted your head as best you could to try seeing what was happening only to find smoke clouding your vision. You coughed weakly, flinching as gunshots began to ring throughout the room. 

 

Heavy footsteps sounded off the walls before you felt someone tugging at your restraints. The IV was ripped from your arm and you felt yourself being lifted, the sensation of cold metal against your burning skin sparking recognition in your muddled brain.

 

“...J...Jesse?” you murmured against his chest, trying to focus your eyes on him. He looked down at you with a weary smile, his cigar lit between his lips like usual. The smell of its smoke was a relief to you, as was the wink he gave you a moment later.

 

“Here an’ present,” his voice was soft, his grip on you tightening as he looked to the other Blackwatch agents in the room. “Alright, mission accomplished. Half the squad go back up the Commander. Other half’s with me to get’er out of here.”

 

The agents saluted and began to do as told, and you could actually see them start to split off now that your eyesight was returning. You licked your lips, looking back up to Jesse with a weak smile.

 

“You came,” you murmured. You reached up to touch the side of his face, fingers gently brushing against the scruff there. Surprise lit up his eyes at the contact, but he smiled nonetheless and nodded.

 

“Of ‘course, darlin’,” he said, and you let your hand fall back down. You took a deep breath, and for the first time in what felt like a long time you felt tears start to stream down your face.

 

“...thank you,” you whispered. With the IV bag gone you felt your senses returning to you, albeit slowly. Jesse carried you out of the room, subordinates waiting outside for him. You were in a narrow hallway now, one you didn’t recognize, and Jesse continued to carry you at a quick pace following the others. 

 

You coughed as they turned a corner, looking to Jesse with a thin frown. “...Reyes. Where’s Reyes?”

 

Jesse was quiet a moment, chewing on his cigar in what you recognized to be a nervous habit. He hardly looked at you as he replied. “Dealin’ with your father.”

 

“What?” you squirmed in his arms, making him tighten his hold on you. You felt rage begin to flood your senses as the situation all fell into place, Cade’s face flashing through your mind. Before you knew it you were struggling in Jesse’s arms, forcing him to come to a stop. 

 

“Hey, stop squirmin’--” he commanded, only to be ignored as you forced yourself from his arms, feet hitting the ground. His bionic arms still had a good grip on you, however, and you practically hissed at him for it.

 

“He’s  _ not _ getting the kill,” you shouted, trying to free your arm from his. Jesse had a hard time holding you, to his surprise, and his cigar dropping to the floor.

 

“Hey, listen, it’s not about--”

 

“Yes it  _ is _ !” you screamed, finally ripping away. You stumbled back, fists and jaw clenched as you gave Jesse a fiery glare. “He’s  _ mine _ .”

 

“_____, wait!” 

 

You hardly heard Jesse’s shouts of protest as you darted around him down where you had come from. With the drugs still pumping through you, you had no trouble outrunning him.

 

You heard him shout after you, but his demands that you return fell on deaf ears. You recklessly sprinted down the corridors, the fact that you were unarmed doing little to deter you.

 

It was luck that you didn't run into anyone at first. You could hear gunfire echoing through the halls and shouts soon after. It overloaded your senses, truthfully, as the smell of gunpowder filled your nostrils.

Talon HQ was a war ground.

 

“Shit!” you came to a screeching halt as a bullet whizzed by your head, embedding itself in the wall beside you. Quickly backing up you turned to see a familiar smug face a few feet away,.

 

“Lola,” you groaned when his voice hit your ears, shooting a glare towards the newly arrived Luciano. His appearance was slightly disheveled, perhaps from a brawl earlier on. 

 

Not that you looked much better.

 

“Luciano,” you spat, your fingers twitching as you eyed the gun he had aimed at your head. The smug smile on his face made your chest tighten in rage.

 

“You know, I’m pretty fond of you Lola,” he drawled out, giving you a small shrug. When you scoffed his lips pulled back into a predatory grin, eyes shining. “No, really. Was cute watching you trip for the first time--almost felt like I took your virginity there.”

 

“That is disgusting,” you spat out, making him laugh. You could still hear the battle raging on around you, but your hallway was completely empty save for the two of you. “Go fuck yourself Luciano. Where’s my father?”

 

“Ah, you’re trying to go get some sweet revenge, huh?” Luciano rolled his eyes. “Without a weapon, to boot? What’cha gonna do, Lola, kick him to death?”

 

You scowled, your hands curling into fists. There was silence as you eyed Luciano’s gun, a gleam in your eye.

 

“Maybe I’ll just take yours,” you said smoothly, making him raise a brow. 

 

“Yeah? And how are you gonna-”

 

You had to thank them for the drugs in that moment. You had to, because the almost  _ inhuman _ speed they had given you was the only reason you pulled it off. You darted to the side, Luciano’s gunshot ringing out a second too late. Your grabbed his wrist and twisted until you heard a snap, Luciano swearing as his gun fell to the ground.

 

He stumbled back, cradling his wrist as you jumped for the gun, immediately aiming it his way. He froze in his spot, licking his lips as he looked you over, eyes narrowed.

 

“...alright,” he muttered, changing his attitude. “Underestimated my own drug then. It happens.”

 

“ _ Your _ drug?” you asked incredulously. “ _ You _ made Cocanium? And…?”

 

“Mmmmaybe,” he said with a small laugh. You glared and put your finger over the trigger, making him go silent.

 

“...I should kill you,” you hissed. “I should  _ kill _ you. But I don’t have time for your shit,” you jerked the gun downwards and fired, making Luciano shout in pain and crumple to the floor. His knee bled profusely, the red a stark contrast against the white floor tile. You lowered your gun by a fraction, glaring down at him. “Where is Cade?”

 

“Fuck Lola,” Luciano panted, unable to hold both his broken wrist and bleeding kneecap. Despite that he gave you an almost  _ bemused _ look, sweat dripping down his temple. “You’re not the wimpy little girl I thought you were. Damn…”

 

“ _ Where is Cade _ ?” you repeated, stepping forward with your gun aimed at his head. He stared down the barrel for a moment before sighing, reaching up to wipe the sweat from his brow. A smear of blood replaced it.

 

“...go down this hallway and take two lefts and a right...then follow the hall until you get to the stairs...he’ll be heading for the helipad, if he hasn’t already left,” he gave you another toothy grin and a short chuckle. You scowled and debated shooting him again, but you only had so much ammo left and you wanted the majority of it to go into your father.

 

“You better not be lying or I’ll really kill you when I come back,” you threatened before lowering your gun, turning down the hallway. 

 

“Lookin’ forward to it, Lola,” Luciano called after you as you ran down the hall.

 

Two lefts and a right.

 

_ Just two lefts and a right... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took forever, my writing muse just kinda flew out the window haha;; Plus lots of life stuff going on that's draining me sighs. I HOPE THIS CHAPTER'S OK since I'm a tad bit rusty. Also, seriously guys, I don't think I would have come back at all if it weren't for all your lovely comments ;A;


	15. High Noon in Russia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Get back to McCree,” he ordered, only for you to look away back towards your father. “Barrett--”
> 
>  
> 
> “I think I have a right to be here, considering my dead father is right over there,” you snapped back, raising your pistol. The squad Cade hid behind simultaneously rose their own firearms, and your father let out a low chuckle.
> 
>  
> 
> “She got you there, Gabe,” he said, his eyes sparkling with bemusement. You growled in the back of your throat, your free hand clenched at your side. “Though, love, my offer still stands.”

You ran down the hallway as fast as your legs could carry you, bare feet slapping against the tile almost painfully as you skid around your first corner. Despite hearing gunshots ring out in other parts of the building your route seemed relatively safe, and you whirled around the next corner without much concern.

   

    It wasn’t until you saw the corner of your last turn you began to slow down, hesitating  as shouts made it to your ears. What they were saying wasn’t clear, but as you peeked your head aroun you knew they were coming from the end of the hall. You could see a set of stairs there, and your heart nearly leapt from your chest.

 

    “That has to be to the helipad,” you murmured quietly, taking a deep breath. You gave your surroundings one last look-around, your grip tight on your gun before starting down the last hallway.

 

    As you neared the stairs the shouts got louder and you could feel a gentle breeze against your sweat-soaked face, sending a shiver down your spine. How long had it been since you experienced fresh air?

 

    Long enough to impart a sense of nostalgia.

 

    You made your way up the stairs and the shouts started to become clearer. There were no gunshots, to your surprise, but no one sounded too happy all the same. You peeked your head over the last few steps, yelping when a bullet embedded itself in the tile by your nose. You almost fell back down the stairs.

 

    “ _Wait_ ,” you heard a voice command as you ducked for cover. You shook just slightly as you heard the voices silence ahead of you, evolving into soft murmurs.

 

    “...I believe that’s my daughter.”

 

    Your blood turned to ice, the voice now clearly recognizable as you peered back over the stairs, straight ahead to where Cade stood behind a squad of men with a toothy grin spreading across his face as your eyes met. You gripped your gun even tighter as you straightened up, the threat of being shot temporarily gone with his command.

 

    As you approached you took the time to observe your surroundings. The helipad was large and made of concrete, but no helicopter was there...yet. As you stepped into the night air you found that to your sides were pillars and short walls that were providing protection to groups of Blackwatch agents.

 

    “ _Barrett._ ”

 

    You froze in place, slowly turning your head to meet the eyes of your enraged commander. With a shotgun in each hand he stared you down, his eyes narrowing dangerously as you gave him a curt nod.

 

    “ _Sir_ ,” you said with a clipped tone, a sour feeling in your gut as you remembered all the lies he had fed you throughout the months, lies that culminated to this very moment.

 

    “Get back to McCree,” he ordered, only for you to look away back towards your father. “ _Barrett--_ ”

 

    “I think I have a right to be here, considering my _dead father_ is right over there,” you snapped back, raising your pistol. The squad Cade hid behind simultaneously rose their own firearms, and your father let out a low chuckle.

 

    “She got you there, Gabe,” he said, his eyes sparkling with bemusement. You growled in the back of your throat, your free hand clenched at your side. “Though, love, my offer still stands.”

 

    “What offer? The offer to _join you_ ?” you scoffed, hardly able to believe what you were hearing. “After drugging me up like that? How long have I even been _down_ there--”

 

    “Three weeks,” your head snapped back to Reyes who wore a deep frown as he looked you over. You looked quite the mess, with tangled hair and disheveled clothes from the weeks prior. For a brief moment, his eyes held a different emotion you couldn’t pin down fast enough before it disappeared. “Which is why you should be back with _McCree…_ ”

 

    “And let you get the kill?” you muttered, shaking your head. “No, not happening.”

 

    “It’s not about who gets the _kill_ \--”

 

    “If I might interrupt,” Cade spoke again, making you both go quiet. He had the audacity to look _bored_ now, causing rage to bubble in your chest. “I’d like to point out, love, that you have _one_ shot to get me,” he put a hand to his chest before nodding to the men in front of him. “And we have eight shots to get _you_ …”

 

    “Put the gun down, Barrett,” Reyes said again, his voice stern. The gun in your hands wavered ever so slightly as you looked over your chances--your _obviously outmatched chances_ \--and a feeling of nausea settling over you when you saw there was no safe way to get your revenge.

 

    But that didn’t mean you couldn’t try.

 

    Everything slowed down the instant your gun steadied--you didn’t even feel the pressure of the trigger against your finger as you pulled. It was the first gunshot of many to ring out, and when you expected to be riddled with bullets you felt a heavy weight crash into your side.

 

    You felt it grab you as you rolled into cover, shouts and gunfire ringing out all around you. You could hear the faint sound of a helicopter coming in as you tried to get your bearings, struggling to get up only to realize you were being held down.

 

    “ _Don’t. Move._ ”

 

    Reyes growled into your ear from behind you, his arms enveloping you. When you tried to wiggle free his grip tightened painfully, enough to make you choke a little.

 

    “L-let go--”

 

    “ _Pendejo._ ”

 

    You looked back at him, unsure what he had called you but sure it was offensive. Your mouth opened to retort only to snap shut when you noticed Reyes’ face had paled considerably.

 

    “...Reyes--” you started right as your eyes caught sight of a dark spot against his side that was growing with each passing second.

 

    He had taken the bullets for you.

 

    “H-hey you...you’re bleeding you have to--” you were interrupted as a bullet whizzed by your cover, reminding you there was a battle raging on right outside of where you were ducking with the commander. One of his arms let go of you to put pressure on his wound, a grunt escaping his throat as he did.

 

    “It’s fine,” he said, looking over to where he had been before tackling you to safety. Both his shotguns laid on the concrete, rendering him weaponless as his subordinates tried to return fire over their barriers. As the sound of an approaching helicopter grew louder Reyes began to curse under his breath in spanish.

 

    “He’s going to _get away_ ,” he seethed through clenched teeth, slamming his head back against the barrier. For the briefest moment you felt a twinge of guilt, though you still refused to see yourself in the wrong.

 

    You wanted to peer over the barrier to see what was happening for yourself--you wanted to charge in there and take another shot (had you even hit him in the first place?) but the moment you began to move you felt Reyes’ other hand return to you, holding you down with blood smearing against your shirt.

 

    “ _Don’t move._ ”

 

    “You said he’s getting away!” you tried to free yourself again but even with your drug-enhanced reflexes, his own SEP training outmatched you.

 

    “You don’t even have your gun,” he breathed, making you tense. He was right--you had dropped it when he ran into you, and now it laid on the concrete just like his. You deflated, realizing that not only were you now useless but you were the reason Reyes was also in a tight spot.

 

    Now you started to really feel that guilt.

 

    “Then what do we do, just hide like cowards and let him run off?” you muttered, surprised that he seemed to hear you over the roar of the helicopter.

 

    “We wait for McCree,” you heard his gruff reply, his hand moving from you again back to his wounds. “Now sit still dammit.”

 

    “...yessir,” you murmured, sinking into his grip as the chaos continued around you. You felt incredibly helpless as you sat in Reyes’ hold, his blood on your shirt sticking to your skin. You saw a man fall behind the other barrier, blood oozing from the hole in his forehead.

 

    That could have been you, just minutes ago.

 

    “Commander!” your breath hitched when McCree’s familiar voice rang through all the noise, turning your attention to the entrance you had come from. You smiled, grateful for his presence as Reyes shifted his weight behind you.

 

    “We’re up here,” Reyes shouted back. “I got Barrett, so _get up here_.”

 

    “Yessir!” you heard McCree’s reply and you could easily imagine him tipping his hat. You frowned though as you realized your father’s men had concentrated their fire towards the hall, and you didn’t see a way for McCree or his subordinates to get past.

 

    “How’s he--”

 

    “Close your eyes,” you felt Gabriel grab twist so you were beneath him, his back to the hall with your face pressed against his chest. You obeyed the moment you saw something fly through the air from the hall, a deafening _crack_ adding to the rest of the chaos.

 

    Even with your eyes closed and Reyes above you, you saw white.

 

    “What--” you breathed as another crack went off, making you flinch against Reyes.

 

    “Flashbangs,” he whispered in your ear, straightening as McCree’s men began to pour out from the hall, guns blazing. You assumed your father’s men were still blinded, as the return fire was erratic and poorly-aimed.

 

    But the helicopter, you realized, didn’t sound as close anymore.

 

    “H-he’s getting away!” you lurched forward, trying to get away from Reyes again only to feel your face press against the concrete with his hand on the back of your head.

 

    “I said _stay put_ -” he was cut off by your elbow slamming into his ribs where his injury was, making him recoil enough that you were able to scramble away. But before you could make it past the pillar you ran into someone else’s outstretched arm, nearly knocking you back off your feet.

 

    “I think you outta’ step back, darlin’,” McCree said with a grin, looking down at you with uncharacteristically tired eyes. He glanced to Reyes who managed to get on his knee, frowning when he saw the wound. “...you too, sir.”

 

    “Yeah yeah, just shoot the damn thing down,” Reyes spat, making McCree nod once before looking forward. You followed his gaze to find the helicopter was already a decent distance away, the men your father left behind either dead or surrendered. Your heart dropped.

 

    “Y’know, I’d reckon it’s about high noon in Russia right about now,” he said stepping forward a few paces. He only had his revolver out, which didn’t seem too impressive given the situation.

 

    “What does that have to do with--” your mouth slammed shut when McCree whipped his revolver up, quickly firing off all of his shots into the night sky. You stared in disbelief as the helicopter ahead faltered--because he had _shot the pilot_ , you realized.

 

    “How did you make that shot?” you breathed, watched the helicopter start going down. McCree let out a deep laugh, patting your shoulder.

 

    “Practice,” he winked. “Lots’a practice.”

 

    You stood beside McCree as you both watched the helicopter spiral out of control, hitting a nearby building before catching fire. You bit your lip nervously as it finally hit the ground, the air deadly quiet before being followed by a fiery explosion below.

 

    And then the silence was back.

 

    “That oughtta’ do it,” McCree said after a moment, his hand still on your shoulder. Reyes used the barrier to stand himself up, walking to the two of you with one hand pressed on his wound. McCree made a clicking noise with his tongue at the side, frowning.

 

    “You better get that looked at soon. Not like you to take a bullet,” he said, motioning to the wound. Reyes scoffed, giving you a look.

 

    “...yeah,” he said with a sigh, looking to the distance where the helicopter lay in ruins. “First, round up the survivors and search the area for any intel on what they were working on here. I’ll take Barrett back with the medics to get checked up…” he trailed off, eyeing you like he had when you first arrived. “...how are you holding up?”

 

    You turned your attention to him, blinking before looking down at yourself. You were a mess, though the blood covering you wasn’t yours but instead Reyes’. You were about to reply “fine” when a wave of nausea washed over you, making you gulp.

 

    “I’m uh...I’m goin’ down,” you admitted, wavering on your feet. Reyes sighed again, looking back to McCree.

 

    “I’ll be taking her now then.”

 

    “Sounds good,” McCree nodded before giving you a warm, apologetic smile. “...I’m sure you got a lot of questions, ____, but we’ll have to sort through’em after clean-up.”

 

    You nodded absently, overwhelmed by all that had happened. Your eyes strayed to the wreckage once more, the realization your father was dead barely registering. It didn’t seem right, for him to appear and disappear so suddenly in your life--and that you hadn’t been the one to do it.

 

    Then there was the whole drug incident, and the distrust that had blossomed between you and the entire Blackwatch force. It was a lot to deal with, and whether it was the drugs or everything else that made you start fading out, you didn’t know.

 

    “ _Barrett?_ ”

 

    “Yeah?” you answered, only to immediately feel a burning in the back of your throat.

 

    _Oh dammit_.

 

    You turned away from McCree as quickly as possible, falling to your knees before retching violently onto the concrete below. You coughed a few times, choking on your own vomit as you tried to clear your throat, tears streaming down your face. You heard McCree’s alarmed voice but couldn’t make out what he was saying as your eyes began to droop.

 

    “ _Get her to the medics_ **_now_ ** _._ ”

 

    You hardly heard McCree’s shouts for a medic as you shook on your hands and knees, battling wave after wave of nausea. At some point Reyes had made it to your side and was holding your hair back with a bloodied hand, his other a soothing presence on your back.

 

    “What’s happening?” you muttered, wiping a trail of spit from your mouth. “W-withdrawals?”

 

    “Yeah,” you heard Gabriel murmur beside you. When you glanced his way you found that his expression had become solemn, and your stomach lurched painfully when you realized there was a chance of you dying from whatever had been done to you.

 

    “I-I need more...m-more of the d-drugs--” you stammered out, your body jerking back as you tried to stand back up. The sudden movement made you lightheaded, however, and the world began to spin and darken around you.

 

    You felt someone’s arm catch you by your shoulders and pull you upright as you started to lose consciousness, the noise around you blurring in your ears.

  
    “  _Aguanta, Barrett_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting! Over! Writer's! Block! HURRAH!! 
> 
> I generally know what's happening next for a little while so maybe updates won't take forever?? Who knows?! But thank you for your support, as always, guys. My day is always made when I get a comment.
> 
> Also!! I made a tumblr for this? I guess? Because that's what people do?? So I'll probably put future update notices there and stuff aND YOU COULD TALK TO ME IF YOU WANT BC LONELY?
> 
> http://pinkabluwrites.tumblr.com/
> 
> See you neeeext time!


	16. Cold Turkey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “...I’m going to repeat this one last time,” you said slowly, making Reyes look back up to you with a brow raised. You coughed, shifting awkwardly under his attention.
> 
>  
> 
> “...I’m not my father.”
> 
>  
> 
> There was silence again as your words hung in the air. You had done your best to sound as sincere as possible, despite sincerity being one of your weaker areas of expertise. It seemed to work though because Reyes gave a low chuckle and cracked half a smile before nodding.
> 
>  
> 
> “Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “You made that clear when you got me shot last night.”

You woke up before your eyes even opened--they felt so heavy still, and as you mentally assessed yourself you felt as if your whole body had gone through the grinder. Stiff as a board you laid there, trying to will your body into movement to no immediate avail. 

 

Your fingers twitched first, popping as you curled them against what felt like bedsheets. Then you tilted your head sideways, a moan of pain escaping at the stiffness of your neck. You tried to recall what happened before you blacked out, but your mind still felt muddled and you couldn’t quite remember the sequence of events.

 

Or where you were.

 

Slowly you pried your eyes open, feeling the crust that had built up along your eyelids fall to the wayside. Your vision was blurry at first, but as your eyes rolled about they became clearer until they landed on something familiar.

 

It was an IV bag full of blue.

 

The terror that shot through you was enough to spur you into action, sitting upright fast enough that your head became lightheaded. You didn’t know why your restraints were off, but you weren’t going to take the time to think about it as you scratched at your arm, roughly pulling out the one--no-- _ multiple _ IV bags you were attached to. You tugged them out so hard the blue IV fell over with a clang against the floor, the metallic sound ringing painfully in your ears as you tried to climb out of the bed you were on.

 

The noise attracted attention, however, and soon you could hear footsteps nearing the door as you looked around the room in a flurry of panic. Nothing was familiar to you--had you been moved? It didn’t make sense, and the more you thought about it the more confused you got until--

 

“Barrett.”

 

All movement ceased as his voice cut through your panic, making you slowly turn your attention to the second hospital bed in the room. There hadn’t been a second one, last time, and as you locked eyes with the other patient you felt your panic begin to deflate.

 

“R-Reyes?” you muttered quietly--almost mouthed his name, really. Everything started to come back to you--the drugs, the escape, the helicopter--everything. It came back so blindingly fast your head felt ready to split open from pressure, and you brought one hand up to your temple in an attempt to ease the pain.

 

The footsteps came to a stop and you glanced sideways towards the newly-arrived nurses, frowning at their panicked expressions before glancing back to the IVs.

 

“...you drugged me,” you muttered, eyes narrowed. Reyes sighed from where he sat, pinching the bridge of his nose 

 

“Only because it was the only way we knew how to keep you stable and alive. We recovered the drugs they used on you for that and research purposes…” you looked back to your Commander with a small frown, then back to the blue IV bag.

 

“...I see,” you whispered, letting out a breath of air before sitting on the edge of your bed. The nurses took this as a sign to approach, only for you to shoot them a deadly glare.

 

“Back off,” you seethed, still wary of people in white lab coats. They flinched back after setting the IVS back upright, looking to Reyes for instructions.

 

“She's fine for now,” he said with a sigh. “Go ahead and leave us.”

 

“But sir, it's about time to change your bandages-” one nurse spoke up timidly. Reyes waved them away, shaking his head.

 

“I'll do it, it's fine. Leave.”

 

The nurses exchanged looks before nodding, muttering a “yessir” before exiting the room. The silence that filled the space between you two once they were gone made you nauseous from anticipation, legs swinging over the edge of the bed.

 

Reyes leaned back into his pillow with his eyes closed, and he would have looked peaceful if it weren't for the frown he still wore.

 

You waited for him to say something--anything, really, because your mind was buzzing with questions and you didn’t know where to start or how to feel about them. You felt rage, you felt grateful, you felt  _ betrayed _ and yet Reyes just laid there, eyes closed, as if there was nothing that needed saying.

 

You finally spoke.

 

“You lied to me.”

 

Reyes opened one eye to look your way, looking you over warily as you sat with a confused scowl, fingers curled tightly around the bed sheets. He let out a sigh, closing his eye again before speaking.

 

“I did.”

 

There was silence again, and this time the rage inside of you start to take over. You hopped off your bed to walk over to his, fists clenched beside you. If he had been wearing a shirt at the time instead of bandages you would have grabbed his collar, but instead you just jabbed a finger towards his face and sneered.

 

“You mind telling me  _ why _ ?” you asked, trembling a little. “You told me he was  _ dead _ \--why lie about that? Why recruit me at all if he was part of this--this-- _ Talon _ group now?” the words began to spill out of you, and before you knew it you had started a tangent. “Why spend all the time and money to train a con artist like me if my father betrayed you? Why send me into the mission without telling me a  _ damn _ thing--”

 

“ _ _____ _ ,” your jaw clamped shut when he said your first name. He had reopened his eyes and was entirely focused on you. “...stop crying.”

 

You blinked, suddenly aware of how your vision had blurred and how your eyes stung. You reached up, feeling the wetness of your cheeks before sniffling, your face red from embarrassment. You hadn't realized you were crying, and doing so in front of Reyes was mortifying.

 

You wiped away your tears quickly, shooting him a glare because it was  _ his fault _ . Your eyes locked again, and both of you held it until Reyes sighed and sat up slowly, one hand on his side. 

 

Eyeing his bandages you could see them turning red.

 

“I lied to you,” he started, looking exhausted. “Because best case scenario you’d be loyal and lure your father out for us--”

 

“That’s why I was in that drug operation?” you interrupted, crossing your arms. “To lure my father out?”

 

“Yes,” he replied with a nod, making you scoff. He looked you over before continuing. “...you weren’t supposed to be captured. At least, not for that long if it happened but we lost you too quickly to do anything about it. Which meant the worst case scenario could happen…”

 

“Which is?”

 

“You join your father.”

 

You let out a bark of incredulous laughter then, shaking your head as you held a hand up to him. “Are you serious?” you asked, taking a few steps back. “I told you  _ how many times _ that I wasn’t my father? And you still didn’t trust me? You--you  _ used _ me.”

 

“I did.”

 

“And you admit it like it’s no big deal!” you shouted back, running your hands through your hair in frustration. “You fucking  _ used me _ from the start. You lied--”

 

“Doesn’t feel that great, does it?” he interrupted with a small, knowing smirk. You stopped mid-sentence, shocked by what he said. 

 

“What do you mean--”

 

“You lied and used people to get by as a con artist. You’re only upset because the tables turned this time.”

 

“I’m not-”

 

“The last con artist we hired, your father, pulled one over us,” he continued, ignoring your interruption. “Was loyal until he was offered a bigger paycheck. Because that’s what  _ con artist do _ , and I should have seen it coming,” he looked away, down to his hands with a faraway look in his eyes. “...he killed  _ nine _ of my men, ____. More since the rescue--we haven’t counted all the bodies yet.”

 

You deflated a little at his explanation, biting your lip as you inspected your commander. He looked tired--absolutely worn down by what had been happening and you felt a twinge of guilt resonate within you. 

 

If Cade had killed nine of his men, it was no wonder Reyes hadn’t trusted you. 

 

“...I’m going to repeat this one last time,” you said slowly, making Reyes look back up to you with a brow raised. You coughed, shifting awkwardly under his attention.

 

“... _ I’m not my father _ .”

 

There was silence again as your words hung in the air. You had done your best to sound as sincere as possible, despite sincerity being one of your weaker areas of expertise. It seemed to work though because Reyes gave a low chuckle and cracked half a smile before nodding.

 

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “You made that clear when you got me shot last night.”

 

Your face suddenly became warm and you looked away, embarrassed by the memory. You had been reckless, and if you hadn’t been then Reyes wouldn’t be in a hospital bed at the moment. 

 

When you heard him  _ laugh _ your eyes snapped back to him in disbelief. It was the first time you had seen him  _ really _ smile, and it felt so out of place you briefly wondered if you were still drugged up and asleep somewhere.

 

“W-what’s so funny?” you muttered, narrowing your eyes. “This isn’t funny. You’re hurt-”

 

“Only because you took the shot.”

 

“I had to! I…” you trailed off, frowning. “...I wanted to be the one to kill him.”

 

Reyes’ eyes flickered up to your face and you looked away, regret swelling in your chest. It was good that he was gone but you felt robbed. You wondered if Reyes felt the same, since it had been Jesse that shot the helicopter down.

 

“...as I said last night,” Reyes started slowly. “...it's not about who gets the kill.”

 

“Sure don't feel that way,” you muttered before sighing, glancing back down to where Reyes’ bandages had bled through. “...you need to get those changed.”

 

Reyes followed your gaze to the wound, his smile disappearing as he inspected it. You almost regretted bringing it up--his smile had been  _ so nice _ …

 

“Suppose I should,” he said, adjusting himself to sit upright. You were sure it hurt like hell, but Reyes barely batted an eye as he moved his legs over the edge of the bed, reaching for the bandages. “Get some fresh gauze and bandages, along with some disinfectant over there,” he said, nodding towards the counter where nurses would wash their hands. You did as told and made your way over, finding what you needed in the cupboards above.

 

You brought the medical supplies to Reyes who had by then removed the majority of his bandages. He peeled off the gauze, hardly wincing despite the way it stuck to the scabbing stitches. You flinched back a little at the sound of bandages vs flesh, fingers curling and uncurling around the supplies.

 

Discarding the bandages to the side for now, Reyes motioned for you to hand him the disinfectant, and after applying it to a few cotton balls he began to dab the area. You watched his face closely for signs of pain, but Reyes was always hard to read and you couldn’t find anything past his indifferent expression.

 

“Hey, I’ll take those,” you said, holding your hand out when he was done. The little cotton balls had turned pink, and after looking at you for a moment he nodded and handed them to you. In turn, you gave him the bandages and reached over to take the old ones, throwing them away in the corner trashcan. 

 

When you came back you found that Reyes was having some difficulty wrapping the bandages around him, finally wincing as he tried to get them around his back. It looked so out-of-character and... _ silly _ that you couldn’t help but crack a smile and hold your hand out.

 

“Can I help?” he glanced up at you, looking you over almost  _ suspiciously _ before bringing the roll of bandages around, handing it to you.

 

“Ever applied bandages before?” he asked as you began to wrap them around his middle, doing your best to ignore how close you were to him as you did. You scoffed at his question, bringing the roll back around.

 

“You forget what we learn at boot camp already?” you asked, tearing the bandage off once you figured there was enough. “First aid was a thing, you know.”

 

“Hm…” Reyes looked down at his bandages as if inspecting them, and you felt a tiny bit offended by his skeptical look. But after a few moments he sighed and nodded, leaning back in his bed.

 

“It’ll do,” he said, closing his eyes momentarily. “How are you holding up? If you start feeling withdrawals let one of the nurses know so they can put the IV back in.”

 

With a glance towards the blue IV you frowned, not entirely thrilled at the idea of being drugged up again. Reyes seemed to notice your discomfort because he, too, was looking at the IV bag now with a look of dissatisfaction. 

 

“...it’s the only way we can keep you alive right now,” he said, answering questions you hadn’t asked. “We got hold of Luciano during the raid and had him explain the drug to us. If you’re off of it cold-turkey for too long, you could die from the symptoms.”

 

“Dare I ask, how would I die exactly?” you pursed your lips, looking back to him. The two of you made eye contact before he began to speak again.

 

“Seizures, mostly. Similar to an alcoholic’s…” he paused. “...we’d have to wean you off of it slowly. Decrease it little by little--”

 

“Or you could send her to SEP.”

 

You jumped at the new voice, whirling around so fast you nearly lost your balance. In the doorway stood a man that looked  _ incredibly _ familiar to you, with blonde hair and blue eyes and a natural smile that could charm anyone. He had his arms crossed and was leaning against the doorway, and there was just enough room that you could see Angela Ziegler behind him.

 

“Mercy…” you said without thinking, turning to face the two newcomers. “What...are you-”

 

“She’s not going to SEP,” you were interrupted by Reyes who, at the moment, was sitting straight up with his arms crossed over his chest, glowering at the young man in the doorway. “She’s going to go off the drugs completely, over time. SEP isn’t necessary.”

 

“Oh come on, it wasn’t all bad,” the man laughed before looking back to you. He gave a friendly nod and smile as he began to introduce himself. “The name’s Jack Morrison. I believe your name is ______ Barrett?”

 

You blinked a few times, letting the name sink in. When images of old Overwatch posters flashed through your mind your face gradually turned redder until you could hardly stand to look at Jack at all. Realizing you still hadn’t answered, you began to stutter. “Y-yes sir, th-that’s my name!” your voice cracked a little at the end, and you finally cast your gaze downwards in defeat.

 

This must have been how Marcey felt when she met Reyes. Like meeting a  _ legend _ .

 

You heard laughter around you--but not from Reyes. Oh no, Reyes was still extraordinarily stoic, his eyes trained on Jack as though he were about to make an escape.

 

“I repeat, she’s not going to SEP,” Reyes repeated, making everyone turn back to him. Angela stepped forward then, giving Reyes a small, sympathetic smile.

 

“Gabriel, according to the files we received she’s almost a  _ fourth _ the way done with SEP’s drug program already. Going through SEP would not only be safer for her than getting her off these unstable drugs, but would also make her a better soldier overall. There’s no reason for her to remain here.”

 

“She’s not. Going. To. SEP,” the way Reyes enunciated every word made you shiver and turn your gaze back to him. His eyes were sharp and deadly serious, glaring not only at Jack but also towards Angela now. “If you wanted to bring this issue up, you should have done so privately.”

 

“Well thing is, it’s really up to her, isn’t it?” Jack said, pointing in your general direction. In response, you pointed your own finger at yourself and mouthed ‘me?’ back at him. He smiled and nodded, making your cheeks flush again.

 

“Ah, well, uhm…” you fidgeted where you stood. “If the Commander says no--”

 

“Which I do,” Reyes tacked on, snorting at both Jack and Angela. “Can you do your job now, Mercy, and check her over? I want to talk to Morrison,” Reyes’ eyes narrowed and you gulped a little, moving out of the way back towards your bed. The air was tense between Reyes and Jack, but you didn’t get to really investigate before Angela was at your side.

 

“How are you feeling, dear?” she asked as you sat back on your bed. You shrugged, rubbing your arm absently as she began to get a stethoscope out. 

 

“I’m starting to feel shaky, but I’m not really sick…” you answered truthfully, trying to glance back to the men’s side of the room. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but neither looked particularly happy with the other.

 

“You should get back on the drugs in that case. You didn’t take the full dose by the looks of it, so make sure you do this time. We have to wean you off properly…” she pressed the stethoscope to your chest and you shivered from the chill of metal against skin. “Take a deep breath for me.”

 

You did as told, holding it a few seconds before breathing out again. You repeated the process a few times until Angela was satisfied. 

 

You went through a few other procedures after that--blood pressure, blood draws and a light physical examination you figured didn’t last long due to the men in the room. After all that she reached for the IV needle and a piece of rubber, motioning for you to hold your arm out.

 

“Do I really have to take this right now…?” you asked with a frown. “It’s...going to knock me out, and  _ hurts _ …”

 

“If you don’t, you’ll get sick again,” Angela replied, giving you a sad smile. “Which is more dangerous to your body at the moment. Your vitals are a little elevated, but otherwise you should be fine...now please give me your arm.”

 

The needle barely hurt when she got it into your arm--you got used to the sensation during the blood draws as she wrapped a bandage around the site to hold it in place.

 

Jack and Reyes seemed to be done talking right about then. 

 

“Just think about it, alright?” Jack said with a heavy sigh, his hands on his hips. “And you--” he turned to you, his expression softening. “Call me, if you change your mind,” before you knew it Jack was by your side, slipping you a calling card. You examined it closely, turning it over a few times before nodding.

 

“Thank you sir,” you said, your face still warm. He nodded, giving Reyes another look before heading for the door.

 

“I’ll see you around, Gabe,” he said with a wave. Reyes didn’t return the wave and merely grunted, his eyes now focused on you and your calling card. Angela was putting away her medical supplies before giving you a smile as well.

 

“I’ll be back to check on you later,” she said. When she turned towards Gabe she stopped, smiling ever so slightly. “...and thank you for helping Gabriel with his bandages. Saves me some work,” she laughed under her breath before following after Jack, waving one last time before disappearing.

 

The room went silent. It felt as if a tornado had just come through, and you didn’t know what to do in its wake. You gently tucked the calling card into your pillowcase, trying to ignore Reyes’ gaze on your back as you did.

 

“Ah, shit…” you muttered, a sharp pain shooting through your arm as you pulled your hand out of your pillowcase. The drugs were starting to take effect, and you knew it’d be best to sleep through it so you began to climb back into your bed only to stop when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw Reyes  _ still staring _ .

 

“...can I help you?” you asked finally, a little snappier than usual as the drugs ran through your veins. 

 

“Give me the card,” Reyes said stiffly. You frowned, instinctively hugging your pillow. You didn’t know what was going on between Reyes and Jack, but the card was rightfully yours. As was the final decision.

 

“I’d rather not, sir,” you said carefully, pulling your blankets up. “...why are you so against me going to SEP?”

 

There was silence again when it began to dawn  on you. Your hands curled around the bed sheets and you glowered, feeling just slightly betrayed.

 

“It’s my dad, isn’t it?”

 

“Just give me the card Barrett.”

 

“No,” you threw yourself down on your bed, arms protectively around your pillow. “You’re just worried I’d get stronger, like my father, and turn on you. Well, like I keep saying,  _ that’s not me _ and you need to stop  _ treating me that way _ ,” you flipped over to face the wall after that, curling up as an uncomfortable heat ran through your veins. 

 

“Barrett--” you heard Reyes start, only to be followed by silence. After a few moments of quiet you heard him shift in his own bed, apparently giving up on the card for now. 

  
It was just in time, because the drugs were really kicking in now, and you closed your eyes to try riding it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GET IT? COLD TURKEY BC IT'S THANKSGIVING AHAHAHA LITERALLY WHY YOU GOT THIS UPDATE TODAY SO I COULD PUN IT.
> 
> Hopefully Reyes wasn't super OOC in this. I tried getting ppl to read it and they said it was good, soooo...
> 
> Feels weird writing his nicer side. Then ripping it away. Sorry. Not sorry. 
> 
> Thanks for the support again guys!
> 
> Also I guess I'll just keep posting my tumblr shamelessly. Feel free to follow...or not! :'D (pls talk to me i don't bite)  
> http://pinkabluwrites.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> I hope it was interesting, even though it was a little short this time. Feedback is appreciated! Sorry if having a last name bums you out but I kinda needed it for later haha.


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